An Uchiha's love
by UnknownRegion
Summary: A cosplayer was 'lovingly' sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his (no, it's her, dammit!) choice of cosplay outfit now that (s)he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito! Slash maybe. Gen mostly.
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Slash/Yaoi, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

Yumiko stared at her contact lens casing in annoyance. Not at the case itself, no, but at what was floating tauntingly inside of it. The seller had, much to her displeasure, delivered the wrong contacts to her. What she wanted was the two tomoe version of the Sharingan, not these... _abominations_!

When she glanced at her phone's watch, she couldn't help but spit out a few words that would make even a sailor blush. With an aggravated sigh - having little choice because she would be late if she delayed any longer - she popped the two lenses onto her eyeballs and blinked rapidly to adjust. Eyedrops were slipped into her pockets just in case.

The full-length mirror showed chunin Uchiha Obito glaring defying back at her, his Dōjutsu menacing even though she knew he was simply a costume. No matter how accurate her whole outfit was, the eyes ruined all of her hard work, damn it!

She would've forgone the incorrect lenses, but due to her eye color being a light shade of brown rather than the typical Uchiha black, the choice was pretty obvious. As much as a perfectionist she was at cosplaying, she would rather use the wrong Sharingan eyes than to blatantly change her character's eye color.

Twirling once to check if there was anything else amiss, she nodded smugly before she ran out of her house, the only personal items on her person were her mobile phone, wallet, keys, and silver cigarette case with an inbuilt lighter.

The minivan waiting at her driveway honked impatiently, which only made her drag her feet all the more. Her cosplay group's leader was an impatient arsehole during good days - a downright menace on bad ones.

"You're late!" Her best friend Riku, currently dressed as a young Kakashi, yelled as she slid beside him at the backmost seat.

She grinned sheepishly, and since she was feeling quite mischevious, replied in a very Obito-like fashion, "Sorry I'm late! I was helping this old lady-"

"Unless your house is haunted, I very much doubt it," Riku muttered grumpily with crossed arms. "Your excuses are getting worse by the day, Yu-chan."

"Maa... At least we won't be late to the convention this time." Riku's older brother (dressed as adult Kakashi), eye-smiled as he looked at them from the passenger seat. The man had Kakashi's placating expression down to the letter. How he did it with only 1/4 of his face showing was telling of his acting skills.

The driver, their dear leader, glowered at her tardiness, which only made her shudder at his pissed off expression. That wasn't a face the Yondaime Hokage should be making. And because her group consisted of cosplay experts (professionals really), he looked a hundred percent like the character he was dressing as.

As the vehicle moved to their destination, everyone dared not open their mouths to risk attracting the attention of the aggravated demon wearing Minato's skin. With time to spare, Yumiko took quick glances at all of her companions.

This was her usual group when going to anime conventions. They may all be in their twenties, but their love for anime was still strong. All eight of them were present and dressed as Team Minato and Team Kakashi; all of them having agreed beforehand to cosplay as their respective characters to avoid any clashes.

There were a few crossdressers like her (and if she didn't know them beforehand, wouldn't have noticed), mostly for BL or GL pairings since everyone in the group was straight and as much as they didn't mind posing for the crowd of otakus at the convention; they would rather avoid snogging the same gender if they could help it.

Everyone looked professional; with not a single article of clothing worn incorrectly. It only made her all the more embarrassed at her mistake. She prayed to fucking Jashin-sama that nobody would realize her error.

"By the way, Yu-chan... What's up with your contacts? Pre-'death' Obito doesn't have the Mangekyou Sharingan." Riku whispered in askance, one eyebrow raised, "I must have overestimated your ability to retain information."

 _Snrk_... She would never pray to Jashin-sama ever again.

With a depressed air, she leaned closer to him as she replied, not wanting to be overheard by the others, "I received the wrong order. They came too late for me to switch 'em. Tsk, it was either this or nothing - I made sure to tear the seller a new hole for that error. Fuck him and his excuses..."

Riku snorted as he rolled his eyes, muttering lowly to himself about her crude language. She ignored him with practiced ease, pulling out her mobile phone and browsing through her favorite fanfic website. Since she and her group were dressed as Naruto characters this time around, she searched for her Naruto OTP; KakaIru.

She heard her best friend scoff at her choice of reading material - which was practically erotica at this point - but didn't bother with telling him off. The little shite and she would always end up agreeing to disagree at which pairing was the best.

 _Pbbt_ , no offense to those who worship KakaSaku, but that pairing seriously gave her chills - and not the pleasant ones, too. It wasn't the age difference that turned her off, no, it was simply due to the fact that she couldn't see Sakura with anyone but Sasuke. Boruto finalized her opinion all the more.

Also, her best friend was the sappy romantic type of guy. He preferred reading really diabetic inducing stories that were full of gag-worthy romances whilst she favored pure smut with the occasional fluff.

Halfway through a rather steamy outdoor scene where ANBU Kakashi was ravaging Hunter-nin Iruka, Riku's elbow dug painfully into her side. She shot him a look worthy of insane-Obito, and judging by the involuntary shudder she received, she did an excellent job at conveying her dissatisfaction.

"We're reaching in five. Let's get into character."

At their group leader's announcement, everyone swiftly turned their phones off and slipped their personal possessions into the prepared duffle bag; it would later be stuffed under the seats before they left the vehicle. She sneakily left her cigarette case in the ninja pouch, knowing that her unhealthy addiction to nicotine was pretty high up and forgoing even an hour (two max) of smoking would make her pretty skittish.

This was why she loved this small group of theirs. When they roleplayed... They truly immerse themselves in their characterization. They were like a well-oiled machine, with everyone already knowing how to behave and be respectful of personal boundaries they had previously set up.

The one dressed as Nohara Rin faced Riku, the brunette already giving love-struck gazes to young Kakashi. Riku, on the other hand, had turned to gaze out of the window, ignoring everyone around him like the smug little bastard young Kakashi was. Hiding her amusement, she made a face at young Kakashi's blatant disrespect of Obito's crush and childhood friend, ready to blow like an active volcano at the slightest of provocation.

Getting into character, to her, has always been the most interesting part. Cosplaying made her forget reality; to temporarily shut her mind of any worries and allow for her to act as another person for the duration she was (literally) in the other's shoes.

When they exited the minivan, everyone has already entered their respective characters. The people around them looked at their group with awe as photos and videos were being taken and recorded. Some even braved up to them to get a few photos.

As they all posed, the most dominant emotion she felt was the eagerness. She couldn't wait to participate in the group cosplay contest. They had never once lost after coming together, after all.

* * *

With a discreet hand signal, she passed along the message that she would be gone for a few minutes to get some much needed fresh air. Riku nodded slightly before walking off with the Rin cosplayer on his heels to search for their Minato.

As much as she loved anime conventions, she disliked the feeling of being a canned sardine more. The crowd had thickened considerably since it was lunchtime, and it made the interior of the building too warm for her liking. The layers of clothing, along with the makeup she wore, weren't helping in the slightest.

She didn't have claustrophobia, but the smell of perspiration was getting to her. The downside of being an otaku was that some of her people simply cared not if they stank up the whole place with their BO.

Distracted by her rather disrespectful and nasty stereotyping, she didn't pay much attention when she walked out of the building and onto the zebra crossing, a lit cigarette dangling loosely in between her lips. When she heard a distinctive sound of a truck's horn from her right side, her mind wondered why the vehicle was suddenly in her face. Then it hit her.

As she was flung many meters away, bouncing on the road like a broken ragdoll, the only thought at the forefront of her mind was; 'a pun, really?!' and then darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

She awoke with a strangled gasp, feeling the whole of her right side pulsing uncomfortably whilst her ears hear nothing but the sound of blaring horns and the impact of metal hitting flesh. She dared not move carelessly, afraid that even the slightest of movements would cause irreversible results. She had, after all, seen many of such cases.

In her line of work, she encountered numerous RTAs where the victim in question jolted around unknowingly and endangered themselves, leading to permanent paralysis from the neck down or something of similar results. So she did her best to control her breathing, shallow inhales and a steady respiration, not wanting to bring any complications.

She threw the growing panic to the back most of her mind, knowing that anxiety and blind fear led to nothing but trouble.

One by one, she mechanically curled her fingers and toes, only to realize that something was very wrong when five of her digits refused to co-operate. In fact, the whole of her right side was numb of any sensations. She pinched her eyes shut, fearing for the worse, before quickly pushing those ' _what ifs_ ' aside. She couldn't afford to falter at a critical time like this, no matter how foreboding this was beginning to look.

Her left hand rose sluggishly - a shadow of trepidation making her hesitant - as she forced the heavy limb to reach for her right side. At the reassuring feel of her arm still attached to her body, she sobbed out in pure relief. At the very least, she didn't need to worry about dying of blood loss due to missing limbs. Infection and amputation, however, was another thing altogether. The majority of her right arm was littered with lacerations that were still leaking out blood.

As she continued to analyze the damages with a clinical mindset, she noted that her shoulder had been dislocated and her humerus and ulna practically shattered. At the very least, the bone pieces hadn't broken through her skin, she mused distractedly, that wouldn't have been humerus at all.

Her fingers slid delicately over her torso, scrutinizing for internal injuries (a few bruised organs but nothing too bad) with efficiency. And just her luck, too; she could feel and hear crunchy movements indicating that the right side of her ribcage had been shattered as well (how was she still alive?). She was seriously relieved to have been manually breathing throughout her awakening. She couldn't afford to risk deep inhalation (no matter how much her body craved to just suck in a whole bag of oxygen).

With a dissatisfied hum, she continued prodding about, mindful of the many wounds scattered all over her right side, including her neck and face (which she wanted to openly wail over. A woman's face was her life). When she deemed her spine intact enough to not risk permanent damage, she turned her head slightly to visually inspect how bad her injuries were.

As soon as she saw the state of her arm, however, she had to hold back the urge to scream and puke at the same time. Sure, she was used to seeing blood, gore, and road kill due to her occupation as a paramedic, but that was _her_ (mangled and banged up) arm she was looking at. Not some stranger's. She didn't even want to picture what her chest and face looked like - just by touching them she knew that scarring was inevitable (if she survived).

Her legs, thankfully, didn't look worse for wear. Although her right ankle appeared to be at an awkward angle, it would still be functional after she aligns the bone correctly. She simply needed to lay off her right foot for a couple of weeks. Her right arm, though, was useless for an undetermined amount of time.

With great hesitancy, she mentally prepared to sit up.

The pain was expected, but that still did not prevent her from keening and dropping back bonelessly onto the ground. The numbness had all but disappeared, leaving behind excruciating agony. She moaned and whimpered as her fingers twitched and her body spasm uncontrollably. She dearly wished for sleep; away from this terrible experience, but alas, her body was being a bitch and betraying her desires.

It was only when the pain declined into an uncomfortable throb did her brain function enough to tell her to shout for help. So she did, croaking for anyone to call an ambulance (or put her out of her misery). When nobody answered her, she painfully cracked an eye open to take in her surroundings behind the screen of her orange goggles (which was miraculously still intact).

It was much to her bewilderment that she came upon the realization that she was all alone and nowhere near civilization. In fact, she was currently in a forest being surrounded by boulders and rubble. The truck, no matter how fast it was going (fucker should have their license hanged), couldn't have thrown her far from the road. _Where had all the buildings gone to?_

But as far as her spotty eyes could see, there were only trees, monstrous ones, looming over her head like some kind of third-rate horror flick. The trunks were as wide as two horizontally challenged men, with sturdy branches and wide leaves.

It took a moment for her brain to catch up, but when it did, it screeched; _screw the giant trees_ \- the boulders were the ones that she should fear the most. The slightest of ground tremors would be sufficient enough to end her life. She could even morbidly picture being buried alive whilst slowly being deprived of precious oxygen and blood.

That would, undoubtedly, be a schist way to go... Not to mention ironic since the character she was cosplaying as had encountered such a fate. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't count on her not so gneiss luck for some senile old man and plant boy to save her. As much as she loved fiction, this wasn't the time to escape reality.

Also, she should firmly stop with the untimely puns. The situation wasn't exactly laughable. She was kinda on the verge of death, after all. The last thing she wanted was to make a grave mistake because of her sliding sanity. _Ok, seriously, enough with the ground and rock jokes._

With the very intention of getting away from such a rocky spot ( _yeah, she dealt with unnerving situations using morbid jokes, sue her, alright?_ ), she pulled as much courage as she could muster and pushed herself into a more transportable position. Her determination to live outweighed the agonizing pain of knives stabbing her all over, but she couldn't help the pitiful whimpers from escaping her throat every time she moved her abused muscles.

It took everything she had to not cave in ( _she gave up. Expect more untimely puns in the future_ ) to the temptations of fainting as she dragged her useless body, using only her left limbs, out from between the huge arse boulders. When she finally managed to, she went limp as she gasps for breath, her whole body covered in a layer of cold sweat, causing her ruined outfit to stick uncomfortably on her clammy skin.

The fucking pain was making her see white, leaving her dizzy as she fought the bile from rising any higher. She wasn't successful in her endeavor and had no choice but to torment her body further by rolling onto her good side. As much as it tormented her physically and mentally, it was better than to choke on her own vomit.

She heaved and gagged as stomach acid burnt her throat, leaving a metallic and disgusting aftertaste. When her blurred and heavy-lidded eyes saw blood mixed with bile, she couldn't help the sound of distress from leaving her throat. She did not need internal injuries to fuck her not so stellar chances of survival, thank you very much!

Furthermore, in such a dense forest with such giant trees, there would definitely be dangerous and carnivorous animals. She wasn't someone who could strive in such an environment, what with being a city girl, and with such fatal injuries... she didn't stand a chance if she were to find herself face to face with a bear or something equally as terrifying.

Screw running away. She would play possum and hope for the best. At least vultures don't live in forests, right?

* * *

For some few hours or so, she continued to slip in and out of consciousness, her mind too wary to stay unaware, yet her body too exhausted to stay awake. The contradiction made her all the more spent.

The next time she came to, the moon was high up in the sky, much to her ever-growing horror. Just by watching a few episodes of Animal Planet, she knew that night was the time those ferocious predators came out to play.

Not knowing what else to do, she cursed herself for being rash. The boulders might've been the safer option right now, _but damn it_ , she was doomed if either a big predator came along sniffing her blood out or the boulders decided that her life was better as a pancake.

Talk about a rock and a hard place. She has never hated mother nature so badly before... and the agreement to not carry mobile phones whilst cosplaying.

Gritting her teeth with fierceness, she palmed the earth with her good hand and pushed herself up. The involuntary tears appeared with the pain, but she did her best to ignore them in favor of moving into a Fowler's position. The first thing she did, even before her mind caught up to her actions, was to push her right shoulder back into place.

Unable to stop herself, she howled and clawed at the ground, fighting to keep her lips sealed even as she screamed her throat raw. Whilst delirious due to the onslaught of pain, she worked to align her right foot. The deepest part of her knew better than to delay the treatment. It was now or never, because fuck, she didn't want to prolong her suffering - she wasn't a masochist.

Her only available hand was trembling so badly as she pushed and pulled to align the bone. Figuratively thinking on her feet, she used what little of the bandages from her cosplay outfit on her right thigh, along with two kunai, to splint her ankle.

Never before has she been so glad to be a cosplay enthusiast - even going as far as to smuggle legit weapons to use as her character's prop. They were, at the very least, sturdy, and could be used to defend herself against... eh, _fuck that_. No matter how sharp her kunai and shuriken were, she would be torn apart within seconds if she ever faced off against a pack of starving wolves.

A pitiful groan later and she was limping into a more shaded area of the forest. She didn't care if predators could follow her bloody scent, she simply wanted to at least feel safe behind a shrubbery for the peace of her own mind. Then she would sleep and let nature take its course.

She just hopes that she would not wake up to fangs and claws, and if they were truly eager to snack on her, they would at least try to meat her expectations by going for her throat. No way in hell was she wanting the rare experience of being eaten alive.

* * *

She was, honestly, quite surprised to still be alive. It was a nice feeling - to be alive, that was. Until the pain and exhaustion caught up to her.

As she groggily checked all of her injuries, she had to mentally thank whichever deity that was watching over her that her wounds hadn't become infected overnight and her ribs had not punctured her lungs (yet). Not to be negative, but drowning in her own blood didn't sound at all appealing.

By habit alone, she searched blindly for her _precious_ (cigarette case, haha), not at all caring that she might be dying of blood loss right now. She shouted in triumph at seeing the silver case intact, though dented. The motion of lighting a cigarette was calming as she inhaled the cancerous fumes.

Now that she has her morning dose of nicotine, she could finally _think_.

Consumables, meaning water and food, were a priority. A shelter was something she could not make/build with her limited usage of limbs, so searching for a hollowed tree would suffice - and with such big trees all around of her, she was bound to discover one sooner or later.

Before she could make a move with finding a river or a pond or _something_ , her body protested. Apparently, simply the thought of water was enough for nature to call. With a pained huff, she pulled herself to her feet and leaned against the oversized trunk nearest to her. She fumbled to unclasp the belt of her pouches, her right arm hanging uselessly by her side.

When the ninja pouches landed on the ground, she kicked them slightly to the side and tugged her pants and boxers down... only to stare with wide, disbelieving eyes when she saw something stomach-churning dangling in between her legs.

A finger was soon shakily (curiously) making its way to the _THING_ , and a poke later confirmed that it was very much attached to her in a way that made her **VERY** uncomfortable.

She would've blacked out, but her clinical side slapped her in the face and screamed at her to think about all of _that_ (ohlordthatwasthewrongsexorgan) later. Bodily needs came first. Peeing all over herself wasn't hygienic, especially with so many open wounds on _this_ body ( **not** **hers** , not anymore). She didn't need to fasten her date of expiry any further than necessary.

She grabbed the dangling... _thing..._ as if it was covered in cooties and shuddered at the unpleasant and disturbing sensation. Not being able to help herself, she scrunched her eyes shut in order to block out the chilling sight whilst quickly emptying her bladder. The smell of burning tobacco, at the very least, managed to keep her sane enough to not do anything stupid (like cutting it off with her kunai). Once again, she implores that she wasn't suicidal - simply unstable right now.

When all _that_ was done, she pulled up her boxers and blood covered pants as well as reclasping the ninja pouch belt. Limping away from her toilet, she listlessly moved in a random direction, her mind carefully blank.

It was only when she could no longer ignore the sensation of walking with something between her legs did she blurt out the first thing that came to her mind, idly registering that her voice sounded lower than her usual androgynous pitch.

"Dick. Balls."

She hysterically wondered if Riku (oh lord, _Riku,_ _where was Riku?!_ ) would smack the back of her head for saying such words out loud. It was a hard battle against her sanity to not take a second glance at the _thing_ resting in between her legs. Now that she was aware of it, she couldn't help but be _conscious_ of it.

Another feverish realization was the lack of breast. She had always been flat-chested, but there was no mistaking the hard chest (and abs, _when_ did she ever have such chiseled muscles?!) for anything but a man's... or a really buff woman. Which she was neither. How she had missed those facts when she was inspecting her- _this_ body was a mystery in itself.

With her paying extra attention to this body, she was also privy to the weird buzzing coming from her lower abdomen.

 _Now, now_ ; she was anything but ignorant when it came to the weird contents of too-imaginative fanfics writers and isekai shenanigan. The only baffling thing was that this was _reality_ and **not** fiction.

It was, simply, impossible for her to have suddenly developed some kind of weird-arse powers (but was she not a _woman_ a day ago?). To prove herself delusional and merely paranoid (she wasn't the result of some bad cosmic joke, _thank you very much_ ), she closed her eyes and concentrated on the buzz. She knew that it was probably hunger speaking, but the moment she 'poked' the warmth, it answered her almost eagerly.

Her eyes snapped open in disbelief as the buzz appeared to hum at her effort before it went back to its dormant state. Her head rolled back so that she was resting her cranium against a tree trunk, looking dully at the sky - or the leaves. Her current position made it impossible to see the sky.

Denial was something she had learned to overcome during her angsty teenage years. It wasn't healthy by any means. But fuck did she want to deny everything.

"'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.'" She croaked, quoting Conan Doyle with an expression of incredulity.

 _Riku_...

She suddenly wanted to see Riku and hear his sassy commentaries about everything being a cruel jape. That she was on TV. Or maybe when she wakes up from this nightmare, he would be by her bedside, drily stating that he would be sending her back to kindergarten to re-educate her about the safeties of looking both ways before crossing the road.

She usually wasn't one to cry, but fuck did she want to break down and hide her face in Riku's shoulder and beg for his sarcastic reassurances.

The tears came a second later, followed by another, and soon, she was all but bawling her eyes out as she pushed the goggles aside to despairingly swipe at her eyes. She felt anguished as her heart shattered at the very thought of living without him.

She wanted Riku. Her best friend. Her rock. Her precious family, by choice rather than blood. She couldn't stand even the thought of him being gone forever from her. Her lifeline taken away from her so brutally due to a freak accident.

Never has she _resented_ the truck driver so badly before. Never has this urge to see Riku hit her with such _desperation_ before. Never has she forlornly _cursed_ the fates for cruelly tearing them apart before. Never has she ever felt such mind-numbing _**hatred** _before.

So she cried, hard and loud, not knowing what else to do.

She allowed all of the grief to bleed into tears as her mind wilfully provided the images of his smiling visage. The sorrow of losing her dear Riku was too strong, too unbearable. The loss too overpowering for her to care if she was heard by any living creature, her life devoid of motivation without him. She grasped desperately at the memory of Riku, at his grin, at his words, at his _everything_... Her precious person.

The only one who would willingly put up with her tardiness and grisly sense of humor.

 _Riku_. Riku. **Riku**. _**Ri-**_

 _(Short black hair framing a handsome face, mirthful arrogant eyes, and a mischievous grin playing on his thin lips, looking at her with sadistic pleasure as she was scolded by their high school sensei for her punctuality - or lack thereof)_

 _[Chin-length brown hair and purple clan markings on her smooth cheeks, adorable puppy dog eyes looking at him with fond exasperation as he apologizes to his team for being late - again]_

 _(A handsome face hovered close to hers as he helps her with her prom makeup, his dark brown eyes catching all of her attention as she skillfully ignores his scalding commentaries of her lack of artistic talents)_

 _[A pretty face grinning at him as she hands him the Academy Registration form, his onyx eyes entranced by her hazel ones as he hides his blush behind the paper]_

Her erratic breathing increased as fond memories of _him_ (and _her_ [?]) played at the forefront of her thoughts; her mind not truly differentiating past from present. And if she was confused by some vision of an unknown brunette, she shoved all of that away to focus more on her blinding anger.

She felt her inner walls being built, her heart breaking into tiny little pieces, and the color beginning to fade away with every blink she listlessly took. The emotions and feelings were too strong for her to contain. It made her eyes itch angrily. And if she had any energy left to move, she would've scratched at her eyes and clawed them out.

In order to stop the anguish, she concentrated on the feeling of wrongness - at her situation. At her change of gender. At her new 'power'. At the truck driver. At her loss. At her injuries. At the unfairness of it all. At the world in general.

With shaky fingers, she lit a new cigarette and inhaled the harmful fumes.

She continued to encourage - to simmer - her boiling emotions as she not-so-gently prodded the buzzing warmth in her abdomen (which she suspects was chakra) and _played_ with it. She **swore** to master this new power of hers, and after that, she would heal herself somehow - because she didn't want to suffer anymore.

And if healing consisted of _destroying_ this _wrong_ **wrong** wrong world, then so be it.

 _(She discreetly gestured at one of her ninja pouches that were hiding her cigarette case from the judging eyes of her fellow cosplaying enthusiasts, playfully shrugging at her lack of restraint for her nicotine addiction. He rolled his eyes in_ _endearment whilst he_ _nodded, walking away from her for the_ very last time _)_

 _[His body was frozen in pure shock, his only eye wide open in blatant disbelief and betrayal as_ Kakashi _\- his_ teammate _and the one who_ promised _to protect her - shoved a lightning clad fist right through her heart... The ground soon became dyed in blood, his vision stained crimson as he stared dully at the moon. He now understood; he was in hell]_

If that was all it took to bring Rin- **_Riku_ **back to her, " _Then so be it._ "

Her tears were no longer clear as her vision turned crimson.


	3. Chapter 3

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

The thundering sound and aching throb of her empty stomach broke through her muddled mind, forcefully driving away that _deranged_ mentality by prioritizing more on this body's desire for survival. When she finally caught up to her thoughts, she couldn't help but blanch, her whole body drenched in cold sweat.

How her thought process had actually jumped from self- _healing_ to _world destruction_ left her dizzy and terrified of her own mind. There was absolutely no connection whatsoever for those two to be aligned. And she just _knew_ it was this body's fault, as ludicrous as it sounds.

She may not be the brightest bulb around, but the obvious breadcrumbs she constantly found were more than enough to give her an idea of _what the fuck_ was happening to her.

Waking up surrounded by boulders big enough to crush her? -It could have been a one-time coincidence.

Injured _only_ on the right side? -Traffic accidents _do not_ work that way.

The change of gender? -Crossdressing was _supposed_ to only affect the outside appearance, giving her more of a masculine look, not _change_ her from the inside-out!

The buzzing warmth in her abdomen? -Yeah, she was hungry (starving, actually), but hunger has never before felt like this, ok?!

Injuries that were supposed to have left her for dead? -Anime characters have always been resilient and hard to kill off...

The ultimate conclusion? She had been _displaced_ into Narutoverse, and due to cosplaying as Obito, had taken over _his_ body, _somehow_. Although there were some ultimatum that did not add the fuck up. An example would be her cigarette case. It had stubbornly followed her to this... _world_ , even though her fucking _vagina_ did not.

No matter how irrational everything appeared to be, it was undeniable that she was not on _her_ Earth. So the only logical (but could _this_ even be considered _logical_?) reasoning she could come up for her sudden insanity strike was due to this body.

 _Irrational madness, thy name is Uchiha._

With gritted teeth and a determination to _never_ **never** _never_ fall to the Curse of Hatred (she _must_ learn to ignore the squeezing of her heart. She must not allow herself to be consumed by the _overwhelming_ grief and fall into darkness), she pushed herself to her feet and staggered into a random direction.

She needed to keep herself busy. She didn't have time to waste on lamentation and hypothesizes (she needed to be clinical and rational), what with this body urgently needing consumables and rest. From what she knows of the anime, chakra depletion was a _nasty_ condition. Furthermore, the injuries she sustained were getting worse - she needed to disinfect, or at least, clean them.

When she spotted a few red and white capped mushrooms at the base of a tree a few minutes later, she stared unseeingly at them as she weighed the pros and cons of eating something that may or may not be detrimental to her health.

As a stereotypical city dwelling otaku, she was balls at identifying edible fauna. Aa, how she dearly wished to be in Torikoverse rather than Narutoverse. _She would_ kill _for a cloverger right now..._

With a dejected sigh, she decided that no, she should not eat any mushrooms, no matter how tempting they appeared to be. Especially those bright ones that kept winking seductively at her stomach. The organ in question grumbled at her (wise) decision.

 _Maybe she was going at it wrong...?_

Obviously, with her limited knowledge of vegetation, she should be searching for a river or lake. Those would be filled with fish, and fishes would definitely satiate her shriveling stomach. Not to mention combat her dehydration.

This body was trying its very best to survive (if this was _hers_ , it would've already gone cold), but slowly, ever so slowly, it was shutting down due to the lack of substances and the fluid and electrolytes imbalance. Her heart rate had sped up considerably as the blood loss took its toll. Sooner than later, she would go into hypovolemic shock.

At that highly unpleasant thought, her fingers twitched closer to her hip pouches, but she resisted the urge to pull out her cigarette case, knowing that she needed as much oxygen as possible right now. Nicotine addiction could wait until she wasn't dying.

As her eyes continuously kept a lookout for a water source, she suddenly stopped, her head tilted slightly to the left as she listened with vivid attention, even holding her breath in order to hear clearly. When she heard the slightest of splashes, she bit her lip to hold in the joy.

Despite feeling like death was looming over her pathetic form, she did her best to trod into the direction of the water source whilst simultaneously trying to avoid stepping over fallen twigs and dry leaves, not wanting to alert any living creatures near her.

The walk towards the source was slow, but she persevered until she was standing on the very edge of a river, the water clear of thrash and full of life. There was a small waterfall - the reason why he was even able to find her way over - though she ignored it in favor of dropping to her knees and scooping a handful of water.

Even though she knew that drinking unfiltered or unpurified water was something not to be done, damn the consequences. Hopefully, chakra would be more than enough to keep her immune system strong that she wouldn't acquire diarrhea or something along those lines.

And wow. Water has never tasted so _delicious_.

She drank slowly, knowing that if she rushed, her stomach would rebel. After a few more minutes of having her fill, she sat on her bum and started to tug on her clothes. It was painful due to the blood crusts so she plunged her whole upper body into the river.

Grime and hardened blood washed away, the cold water numbing the constant aches and pains, leaving behind only ugly gashes to be seen. Honestly, it was as if someone had put her whole limb into a paper shredder or shredded it with a cheese grater, the skin barely intact as it was.

Once she felt the crusts soft enough, she hissed out a mouthful of offensive words and struggled out of her torn and bloodied clothing, feeling embarrassingly self-conscious even though she didn't have anything to be ashamed of - if the abdomen muscles were any indication (those defined six-packs, _damn_ ). After that was done, she washed away the perspiration and allowed herself a moment of peace.

It was only when her right side started to burn again did she move to distract herself. When she peered into the waters, the wet teenager staring back at her was familiar as _he_ was foreign. Uchiha Obito, roughly about fifteen years old (shouldn't he be thirteen, though?), had replaced her twenty-five-year-old _female_ self.

Her good hand made a swipe at her cheeks, at her chest, at her eyes, at her hair, but no amount of water was able to wash away the reality of who she had turned into. There was no makeup to rub away, no contact lenses to remove, and no wig to take off.

The reflection unnerved her, so she glared defiantly at the teenage boy, who glared back with equal ferocity. She couldn't help but flinch at how unstable he looked, which only made it all the more wrong when the reflection jerked back as if afraid, his expression twisted into something similar to a kicked puppy.

With a groan, she covered her ( _Obito's_?) eyes with her good hand and just... _think_. Everything was too damn confusing.

First of all, if she had somehow _possessed_ Obito's body (and _maybe_ booted the boy's soul out of his body), why was her cigarette casing still on her? Why was an object not linked directly to Obito be with her? Obito was not a chain smoker. _It makes no sense!_ Had they merged? Was there an error in the displacement (the displacement in itself should be the error!). Something must've gone wrong somewhere. She just needed to find the connection.

Also, Obito in Kakashi Gaiden was _thirteen_ , but this body looked _fifteen_ no matter how much she tried to push down his age. And a fifteen-year-old Obito was already Tobi, with Senju cells and half his body artificial. So, again, _this makes no sense whatsoever!_ No matter what, she was a _woman_. She refused to accept otherwise, the wrong genitalia notwithstanding.

Slowly, as to not aggravate her wounds further, she distractedly wore her clothes (she felt too uncomfortable to be naked in public), the goggles and leaf forehead protector being tucked into one of her ninja pouches due to the difficulty of tying them with one hand.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the deadly fumes as her mind tried to process her discoveries. After a few more minutes of silence, she once again peered into the waters and pushed a small amount of chakra into her eyes.

Well, at least chakra came easily, she sneered, what with it being foreign to her back on Earth. The warmth itched, buzzed, and comforted her all at once.

The Sharingan activated without a fuss, crimson with three tomoe surrounding the pupil. Another push and they swirled almost lazily, changing into the Mangekyō Sharingan without any resistance. Ah, now she knew why this body was older. Obito activated his Mangekyō after witnessing Rin's death, and that was around fourteen, fifteen-ish.

She stopped the flow of chakra and closed her onyx (brown, _not black,_ they should be _brown_ ) eyes, suddenly tired of everything. Out of all the characters, she just had to go and take over one of the _main antagonists_ of the anime. Although, perhaps, it shouldn't be that shocking. She was cosplaying as Obito, and she did, after all, contemplate the destruction of the world just an hour or so ago.

 _Fuck_. She was doomed.

The Curse of Hatred was something every Uchiha struggled with, and she knew it was something hard to conquer. Her desperate longing for Riku was so overpowering that her thoughts had turned into hatred so deep she almost lost herself to darkness.

Now, at the very least, she knew what was wrong and would try to control her emotions better. Nobody would be able to replace her dear friend... but to avoid being consumed by the Curse, she needed to form _bonds_. She knew that. Of course, she did. Despite all the logic, a big part of her mind howled and rebelled.

This... was going to be _difficult_.

She blinked, and with much hesitancy, decided to head to Konoha. What better way to connect with others than to reform the bonds with this body's team? Besides, an Uchiha would be much safer there, and assuming that she was currently in the middle of the Third Shinobi War timeline, she desperately needed to avoid some major players in the anime.

For the top of her to-avoid-list, however, would be Kuro (fucking demonic manifestation that it was); since it would undoubtedly plant ideas into her head, and she doubted that she could resist the Eye of the Moon plan even knowing that the manifestation only wanted to use people as its pawn. Even now, she wanted to go ahead with it. With its help, maybe, just _maybe_ , she would be able to see Riku again and-

NO! Stop!

She physically slapped herself to rid her head of those _foolish_ thoughts. She would rather face reality than live in an illusionary world, dammit!

Konoha. She needed to go to Konoha. No matter what, Team Minato would always accept Obito. And judging by how she had awoken surrounded by boulders, she could only assume that the Kannabi Bridge mission was recent enough (plainly ignoring that she had the memories of Rin's _last moment_ playing in a loop in her head). Meaning that she would be able to save Rin from death and spare Kakashi from having that accursed label; _Friend-killer._

She giggled slightly in hysterics. It would be like a ghost returning home. Hopefully, she would not be mind-fucked by a Yamanaka thinking her a spy. Although she knew that her Sharingan might help if that was the case. The Mangekyō Sharingan's illusional properties were (kinda) limitless, and her imagination, as an otaku, was at a master's level.

With a plan ready for the future, she focused on the present; which was food.

Unexpectedly enough, this body has reflexes that made it easier to catch fish. A Katon later (after many _many_ attempts that resulted in fainting twice) and she began eating. She didn't even care that they tasted like charcoal; she was simply happy at being able to eat her fill.

As she ate, she pondered over the pros and cons of removing her left eye. It would make the story of her survival more believable if she was missing the eye Obito had gifted to Kakashi. However, she didn't want to lose an advantage. A pair was definitely better than one - and Obito's have always been overpowered.

With just with one eye, Obito was able to kick so many arses. Not to mention forcefully controlling Kurama at the tender age of fifteen. Imagine if the man had both his eyes during the early stages? She couldn't help but shudder at the realization of how much potential this body contained.

 _Obito_ had been a late bloomer. His lack of self-control made canon Obito a weak genin and chunin, and as evidenced by Tobi pulling many strings from the shadows, motivation and discipline was the key element to being a formidable shinobi that fought _by_ and _against_ Uchiha Madara.

And personally, not including Madara and Sasuke, she thought Obito to be the strongest Uchiha in existence by the end of the anime. Madara was simply too overpowered; even Kishimoto-sama admitted he had a hard time killing the bastard off. Sasuke, well, that guy was simply a cheat; what with being the main character's equal. Uchiha Itachi... Came close to being the top Uchiha. If the prodigious Uchiha was not sick, he would have been the main powerhouse that could rival (and overtake with no issue) Sasuke.

Since she was currently in Obito's body, with both eyes intact, and was at the age when he was able to fight Minato to a stalemate (disregarding the original Obito taking hostages)...

With a slightly demented giggle, she covered her eyes with a palm and hunched into herself. The world was so fucked if she were to be seduced into the dark side. The anime would have been better off without Obito manipulating every single person to do his bidding.

Never before has she been so tempted to perform hara-kiri for sins she didn't even commit. Or maybe that was just the prospect; the potential that she could fuck things up so badly due to her knowledge of the future. If Kuro were to get ahold of her foreknowledge, the world would be beyond saving since Kuro would just prevent Naruto's birth. Without the main character's Therapy no Jutsu, the world was utterly _doomed_.

Shite. Her thoughts were becoming more and more jumbled, more depressing.

Were suicidal thoughts a sign that the Curse of Hatred was eating her from the inside out? She was beginning to hate herself (this body), after all.

Seeing that she was spiraling out of control, she physically pushed herself to her feet and glared at the sky in defiance. She refused to lose her mind. She refused to be devoured by the Curse of Hatred. She refused to lay down and die without trying to find a way back home.

With a snarl, she hobbled over to a hollowed tree and hid inside the darkness, prioritizing rest to get better. She sat with her legs outstretched and closed her eyes, intending to sleep. A healthy body was a healthy mind. Afterward, she would practice her chakra control and eyes. She needed, at the very least, to be able to protect herself. Or access the Kamui dimension in order for tactical retreats.


	4. Chapter 4

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

 _Danger_.

That was the first thought that registered in her half-conscious state. She didn't know why exactly she was jolted awake, but some kind of sixth sense in her _screamed_ for her to _move dammit move!_

Not even questioning it, she rolled to her left - and just in the nick of time, too. A black paw, deadly and covered in wiry muscles, landed heavily on her recently vacated spot, causing dirt and grass to be dug and dust clouds to irritate her throat.

Her eyes warily trailed the fur-covered limb until she saw two rows of razor sharp, bloodstained fangs that were covered in an unnerving amount of saliva. She would've praised the graceful predator for its shiny black coat any other day. Now, however, she was too busy fearing for her life, her heart running a marathon.

She swallowed, throat and mouth dry, wary of making any sudden movements in fear that the fucking _giant panther_ would jump at her.

The panther was, thankfully ( _or not,_ a small part of her whispered hysterically), too massive to fit into the entrance of the hollow hole she had childishly named Temp Home Base (THB). Its claws retracted as it dragged its powerful right paw out of her base, staring at her with hunger filled eyes. She could only see its snarling face and a quarter of its body from her position inside of the THB, ferocious enough to give her a heart attack.

"Good kitty... Good, good kitty... I'm pawsitive I'm nothing more than meat and bones, so, please, _please_ spare me like a good kitty," She murmured in a faint warble, her left hand fingering one kunai she had - at one point of time somewhen - extracted from her thigh holster.

Said kitty must've understood that she was severely weakened and lacked the strength to defend herself (and took her words for 'itadakimasu') because it suddenly growled, muscles bunching. It was a split second, only a small amount of time, and her brain lovingly procured graphic images of her being torn to shreds and eaten whilst still alive as if to encourage her to do something.

Those purrfectly realistic images definitely didn't help. In fact, they did the opposite. Her whole frame trembled, refusing to cooperate even as her sight sharpened to an almost painful degree, watching with anticipated dread as the paw descended on her in slow motion.

Just as those sharpened claws brushed dangerously against the tip of her nose, cutting slightly into her skin, the world _twisted_. The body that she was currently (temporarily? Permanently?) residing in landed onto hard ground, limbs spread eagle, and destination unknown but out of the forest, everything looking far too dull and grey to be anywhere near woodland.

She, however, didn't care for all those _tiny_ details.

The first thing she registered was that she was still feline alive. The next was the excruciating pain radiating from the back of her eyes and temples region. She dropped the kunai in favor of swiftly covering her eyes with her working palm, groaning pitifully as it did nothing to elevate the pounding in her head.

She felt herself crying, but it did little to soothe the dryness of her eyes. A small portion of her was yelling hysterically for her to fucking open them and _ohgoddon'tstopmoving_ , frightened and skittish of the possible dangers the panther could still bring to her life, and closing her eyes would only reduce her chances of survival.

Another part of her, however, a bigger one, made her curl into a foetal position, trying to physically block out any light from entering her (hyper) sensitive organ of sight. It was torture. And she feared she had blinded herself temporarily from the feeling of warm blood leaking out from her eye sockets.

A detached part of her analyzed the cold facts of what had happened and told her that she had somehow activated Kamui. And that was both bad and good. The good part was that she was still alive thanks to it. The bad part was that she had probably overloaded the eyes with chakra in her panic state and ruptured the blood vessels, making the chakra pathway swell.

She had planned to practice these eyes, of course, but _not like_ _this_. Recklessly. She still didn't know if this body contained Hashirama's cells, but she had a dreadful feeling that it didn't. There were no instances of heightened regeneration for one.

She gritted her teeth, blew out a frustrated breath, and uncurled this body, already the pain her entire right side was feeling had dulled to an endurable level. At least, she grimly thought, this body's pain tolerance was helping her somewhat.

With closed eyelids, she pawed the ground for the discarded kunai - all the whilst cataloging the difference between the grassy undertones and the smooth texture of this possibly Kamui dimension - and cried in triumph when her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the weapon. No matter how useless she was in a fight, being armed was better than being weaponless.

She fumbled slightly to reholster the kunai, only to nick her outer thighs twice before managing. With a grunt, she pushed herself to her feet and stumbled unsteadily until she was leaning heavily against a wall - or if this really was the Kamui dimension, an oversized grey cube.

As much as this body protested to her rough treatment, she ignored it to pace (it wasn't even her body, anyway. Why should she care about its comfort?). Pacing helped her _think_ , and in this case, she could do not much but plan for all possible contingencies. Since she was out of danger, for now, she could relax marginally and allow herself some breathing space.

It was only after a few minutes did she try to lift her eyelids that were heavily crusted in dry blood. Blinking a couple of times to clear her vision, she squinted and hummed at the sights before her. She was, indeed, in the Kamui dimension. Grey cubes of various sizes were present everywhere, though it wasn't indefinitely. The horizons were cut off by walls of darkness, as if she was currently inside a giant cube that contained smaller cubes that acted as platforms.

It was... _peculiar_ , to put it bluntly. And it tickled her desire to experiment. But she pushed those aside for now. She needed to prioritize.

First of all, she needed to know if she could activate the Mangekyō Sharingan whenever. And if she could, were there any side effects if done properly? It was a known fact to all Naruto fans that overuse would cause bleeding and blindness to occur, but would she simply leave it at that? _Of course not_. She added into her mental checkbox that overloading her eyes with chakra causes them to pound painfully and haemorrhage profusely as well.

There was also a considerable drain of chakra whenever Kakashi uses it, so she would be all the more careful not to overdo it lest she be deprived of chakra. Unlike him, she wasn't anywhere near Konoha, nor was she surrounded by allies and comrades who would help her as soon as she fell unconscious due to chakra exhaustion.

If - and this was a big _if_ \- the Mangekyō deterioration was present in this body, she would be forced to act in a way that would leave her morality and ethical side squirming in discomfort. However, she was first and foremost, a selfish person who would put herself before others. Besides, the Uchiha were plentiful. Capturing one or two alive for her own use won't hurt anyone, right?

But she shouldn't get ahead of herself. The chakra pathways in her eyes were far too raw for her to practice or even activate the Sharingan right now. So with that in mind, she slowly lowered herself to the ground and leaned back against one of the giant cubes. She stared at her left palm in semi-trance, using it as a focal point to meditate on the chakra in her abdomen.

The energy within her moved like an eager puppy. It coiled and danced through her pathways, leaving her skin tingling pleasantly, hyperaware of their presence and activity. She wished she had the foresight to gather leaves before retreating into the THB, but whatever. She would make do. That wasn't the only chakra control exercise available.

With concentration that left her sweating, she moved the chakra in this body to spin in a tight spiral. It was at first a jerky maneuvering, but with perseverance and time, she managed to smoothly manipulate the chakra so that they would cooperate enough for her to form chakra strings.

They were thick and crude and not at all refined like those Suna puppeteers she saw in the anime. But that was to be expected. She was a rookie, even if this body had years of fine-tuning, she was mentally still a beginner. She didn't know for how long she practiced, but it was not until her stomach made a noise of complaint did she stop.

She was wary (and with good reason to be) of leaving her safe haven, however. What if that apex predator was still lurking outside her THB, waiting for her to reappear? She doubted that it was _that_ intelligent, but her fear made her irrationally paranoid.

She wished she had a training manual or something for the workings of the Kamui teleportation and intangibility abilities, but alas, nothing could ever be that easy for her.

Life was unfair and as it was unkind.

With a meticulous application, she guided a small amount of chakra to her eyes, wincing at the sharp throb of introducing it to the raw and swollen pathways.

The activation of the first stage of the Sharingan went as she expected. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she exhaled in relief. Her muscles, however, were tensed as she prepared to activate the second stage of this body's Kekkei Genkai, preparing herself for the knife piercing pain as she gently pushed more chakra into her eyes.

It was instantaneous.

Her vision had not only improved outstandingly, there were also weirdly distortions in the air everywhere. They were odd yet fascinating, but she didn't have time to study them carefully. The agony made her tear up, and she just knew she was crying bloody tears once again.

She instinctively pictured the river, and for a second, she feared her efforts were for naught. Thankfully, her world twirled and she landed outside the Kamui dimension by the river on her feet unsteadily, unused to the method of travel. She did, however, take notice within a span of a few seconds that one of the distortions near her had opened and swallowed her up.

It made sense - in a weird and illogical kind of way. That she was able to see space-time dimensional portals, that was.

As soon as she was made aware of the lack of a giant panther anywhere near her, she swiftly but gently tugged the chakra from her eyes and dropped to her knees, heaving in discomfort and mental exhaustion. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she grimaced at the slimy texture of blood.

At least now she knows that she could activate the Mangekyō whenever.

With a sigh, he washed her hand, drank a few mouthfuls, and cleaned her face, feeling relief when the cold water numbed the pain albeit only slightly. When she wasn't wincing with every blink she took, she decided that it was enough to focus on getting brunch. She pulled out a kunai, and without even conscious effort, this body moved on autopilot. With a flick of her left wrist, the kunai sailed through the air and skewered two fishes in one go.

"Double kill," She gave a wobbly smile as she tried to distract herself from thoughts of how this body had been trained to kill since young.

She waddled into the waters to retrieve her kill before she started to clean them. She hummed as she worked to cook her dinner. This time, she didn't just spit out a fireball at the get-go. She painstakingly gathered dry twigs and used rocks to form a campfire.

With precise and dextrous fingers, she formed hand seals with only her working hand (benefits of being a die-hard Naruto fan) and breathed in deeply, her chest expanding as she spat, "Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu."

The fireball was utterly pathetic; not even a basketball in size. Maybe it could pretend to be a decent enough golf ball if she squinted hard enough and gave it the benefit of doubt. The pitiful excuse of a 'great' fireball, however, worked well enough to set the campfire alight.

After ten minutes or so of cooking the two fishes over the fire, she ate them with gusto, not minding the bland (and _slightly_ blackened) flavor. Now that her stomach was sated, she decided it was time to experiment, _uh_ , she meant practice, on the volunteers.

Catching those slimy aquatic creatures were more difficult than simply skewering them, but she managed after a few tries. She used her kunai to cut into one of the fishes' sides before holding it down with one knee, its gill semi-submerged into the waters to keep it alive. She then started to concentrate her chakra into her palm to extend it into the fish's body to try and heal it.

The result was quite... _explosive_.

She grimaced as she wiped the fish guts from her face.

"You have cod to be kidding me... Should've let minnow if you couldn't handle that much chakra." She huffed as she grabbed another flopping fish, "Don't worry, little buddy, I'll dolphinately do better this time."

The fish didn't agree with her by the way it flailed harder.

 _Rude_.

* * *

It took her nine fishes before she succeeded in turning her chakra green. Seven more before they didn't explode. Five before their cuts started to heal (albeit at a snail's pace that caused the lot of them to die from blood loss). And three to close up their cuts entirely.

By then, she had already burnt through a small portion of her cigarettes. Oh, and it was already time for a late dinner.

She cleaned and skewered the fishes that were intact enough to cook over the campfire, before devouring them like a starved beast. Chakra manipulation and practice made her insanely hungry. Thank gods this body's reserves were big enough and its recovery rate good enough for her to be able to use them continuously without much worry for complete exhaustion.

Of course, she wasn't a genius or something as equally bullshite. This body was already a chuunin before she overrode it (and probably killed the original Obito whilst at it), so it was simply her getting used to it. Like one would get used to wearing a pair of newly bought stilettos - uncomfortable enough that it took some time to get used to walking in them without tripping badly, but familiar enough due to having previously worn another pair.

She wasn't confident that she would heal fast enough to travel to Konoha without getting eaten by a predator or killed by a wayward nukenin, thus the reason for her desire to learn the Mystic Palm Technique. And, to be completely honest, she was more comfortable at the thought of becoming a Medic-nin than a fighter. She had been a paramedic before all this had happened, after all.

And _maybe,_ just maybe, it was because she didn't want this body to become too powerful lest she be tempted to continue those stupid thoughts of wanting the world to burn.

Damn Uchiha body...

After her meal, she gathered a bunch of small leaves to use for future chakra control exercises and a bush to cover the entrance of her THB. She would've entered Kamui to feel safer as she slept, but that would be a superfluous use of her eyes, pretty much unorthodox and excessive. Not to mention the risk of strain and deterioration.

With a wary gaze at the entrance, she huddled as far behind as possible inside the THB and raised her left hand. Concentrating on it though still keeping outward awareness, she manipulated her chakra into her palm and made it green. She then brought her palm to her right ankle and focused on healing it.

Mobility was the most crucial to her survival right now. Bruised organs and the use of her upper limb could wait.

She was sweating bullets by the end of the healing session. Even then, she had not managed to heal the bone completely, not wanting to risk more than half her chakra in case of an emergency was to occur. Although it was indeed enough to move around with slight discomfort.

A sigh later and she relaxed her muscles, her eyelids drooping in exhaustion. Hopefully, she would not be seeing that apex predator anytime soon.

* * *

A whole month was continued as such. Thank Jashin there was a lack of predators in her immediate area (that damn panther being a one-time occurrence). She hadn't used Kamui ever since (disregarding that one failed attempt at teleporting to Konoha) and was feeling much better now that the chakra coils surrounding her eyeballs were healed.

She manages her days wisely. Most of her time was spent on chakra control exercises, mastering the Sharingan, and rehabilitating the muscles of this body (though she was kinda ruining Obito's hard work with her bad habits. Not that she cared. This wasn't her body). Healing herself via the Mystique Palm Technique was done every night until she was as good as healthy as she could get.

The _scarring_ , however, was unavoidable.

She would have liked to think of herself as someone who cared not about such superficial and shallow things... but that was impossible. She, just like any other women, cared about face (skincare was a common thing in the modern world. It was scientifically proven that the more good looking one was, the higher their chances of getting promoted). Men might've brushed these off and deem them worthy souvenirs - handsome and impressive even, but her? No. Just... _No_.

The scars weren't as grotesque as canon!Obito's, thankfully. They didn't pull or fold her skin downwards like his did, but they did cover the entire of the right side of her face, down to her neck, chest, and arm. They made her appear similar to a victim of a psychopathic pyromaniac with the obsession of burning people's skin off.

Think of Balalaika from Black Lagoon - real life (cosplay) edition.

Unlike that particular anime character, however, she wasn't confident enough to wear these scars with nonchalance pride, using it as an intimidation factor to make those below of her cower. No, she wanted to be _pretty_ ( _she wanted to be a woman_ ) but average enough to fade into the background and parade around unnoticed by the world.

When even healing chakra failed to stop the scarring, she immediately made plans to hide it from view. The less eye-catching she was the better. The fewer people that could remember her by the better.

(And if the main reason to cover it was that she was vain, that she was ashamed of her imperfections, that would be a secret.)

Despite the dislike of having hair fall into her face, she used chakra to grow out her bangs (thank you Jiraiya) to be used as a shield. It, however, has an unfortunate side effect of making her look like a younger version of Madara - what with the chin-length bangs that framed and covered the entire of her right face.

Thanks to that particular fact, she bluntly decided to keep the rest of her hair short (no need to give Madara any other reason to want her). Being a direct descendant[1] was a pain. Obito was also unfortunate enough to be cursed with Madara's talents and attractive looks.

Ah, with each passing day and every revelation, she began to loathe this body more and more. Not only was it _male_ , it also has _family problems_ and _genetic disorders_. She blamed inbreeding. And the world in general. Also Masashi Kishimoto.

She sneered and stomped on the puddle she was peering at with a vengeance, not wanting to look at how repulsive this body and face was. Why couldn't it be more feminine? Softer? More like _hers_?

With pursed lips, she reached for her cigarette case... only to remember that she had been out since the very first week.

 _Fuck._

Kneading the bridge of her nose, she sighed and decided to continue her journey. Oh, and avoid reflective surfaces from now on lest she loses control and starts destroying shite.

With an activated Sharingan, she jumped onto the tallest tree she could see and ran up its length, only stopping when she reached the highest point. She stood at its top with cat-like grace. This body's level of fitness, flexibility, and balance was definitely something she could have never achieved back in her world.

The forest seemed never-ending, but thanks to her eyes, she was able to spot a dense amount of chakra signatures just south-west from her. With chakra enhancing the muscles of her legs, she leaped down onto a sturdy branch and dashed through the treetops at an exhilarating speed that would make any athletes from her world burn with jealousy.

It was ten minutes into her travel did she arrive at her short-term destination; a small village. She was perched like a gargoyle on a random rooftop, watching the people as they moved and chatted with one another without a care in the world, their faces and body language showing that they were relaxed and unguarded.

She surmised that the war must've ended by how peaceful they were acting.

There didn't seem to be anybody with matured chakra reserves ( _or they hid it well enough,_ she notioned suspiciously) or wearing durable or shinobi clothing, so she assumes that there weren't any ninjas currently frolicking about. That made it easier for her to sneak into a few shops and blacksmiths to swipe a few sets of clothes and ninja equipment to replace her current one.

Again, she was a selfish creature so she didn't bother to feel guilty. Besides, she was doing the world a favor. Her current outfit (a month of using the same clothes) stank so badly that even skunks would be repulsed. As soon as she was done with her shopping, she re-entered the forest and immediately shrugged off her Obito cosplay.

She smiled as she put on her new outfit.

They were an ankle-length dark blue kimono with sleeves that were long enough to flow past her fingers and hide the armguards strapped around her forearms, dark pants underneath since she wasn't a flasher, socks, and a pair of knee-high combat boots. The scarf, as well as the kimono's sash, was a burnt orange in color.

The ninja pouches were hooked to the back of her sash (after she happily refilled them full of non-ninja shites. The right pouch contained many boxes of cigarettes, whilst the left pouch had tobacco for her newly acquired kiseru pipe) and the kunai holster was strapped to her right thigh, hidden behind the folds of her kimono. Her forehead protector, unlike Obito, was currently tied loosely around her neck, concealed by her scarf.

With a nod, she combed a hand through her spiky hair as she pocketed a storage scroll that contained another three sets of her current outfit. She decided that this would officially be her attire for an undetermined amount of time - or until she got the Konoha standard issued attire all chuunin and jounin were given.

She idly wondered if she could take the jounin exam upon her return and work at the hospital or retire from being a shinobi altogether.

Before she re-entered the small village, however, she spat out a fireball at her Obito cosplay outfit, watching with immense satisfaction as it crumbled to ashes. There was a legit reason, of course; and not because she was becoming a pyromaniac. It was to save the wildlife from dying from the stench of month old rags, obviously.

Whilst walking down the streets, she pick-pocketed a wallet from an arrogant looking arsehole as she made her way towards a dango shop she had previously spotted whilst searching for clothes, an unexpected craving for her who preferred bitter things.

As she settled herself inside the dango shop, her back against the wall and the entrance in full sight, she scanned the interior out of habit. People watching has always been her favorite past-time whenever she went out to eat with Riku.

... The remembrance of her absent best friend, however, made her chest tighten painfully, but she roughly pushed those memories aside when a waitress came over, a cheerful grin on her soft features. The waitress was quite the looker, which made her finger the ugly scar that was hidden behind her curtain of hair in a self-conscious manner.

"Irasshaimase!" The waitress welcomed with a polite bow.

"I'd like three sticks of an-dango, five sticks of mitarashi dango and another five of hanami dango, please." she gave the younger female a small smile (albeit strained if one looked closely enough) and stated her orders politely. She might have felt uncomfortable about being near someone who was clearly considered a beauty, but she wasn't uncurbed enough to show her discomfort.

"Certainly! I'll return within a few moments with your orders." The waitress gave another bow before skipping away, her pinkish cheeks and pouty lips making many of the male teenage customers stare at her with longing.

 _Ah, to be that young..._

With a small amused smirk at the teenagers' love-sick gazes, she pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit up a stick, inhaling deeply like a drowning person. It instantly brought forth a wave of relaxing effects, her muscles loosening as she exhaled.

It didn't take long for the waitress to reappear with a tray in one hand and an ashtray in another.

"Thank you for waiting! Here are your orders; three an-dango, five mitarashi dango, and five hanami dango." The waitress retrieved three plates from her tray, a glass of water, and the ashtray and placed them in a neat line on the table, "That'll be a total of 245 ryō, please."

She handed the waitress the correct amount and nodded in thanks. The pretty waitress bowed once more before leaving when another person called for her.

She was half-way through her cigarette when a duo caught her attention. If she had not already exhaled all the smoke in her lungs, she would be choking on them right now. The only reaction she outwardly showed, however, was a blink of her eyes as she turned her head away as calmly as she could manage.

Why?

Oh, no particular reason. Just that _Uchiha Itachi_ and _Hoshigaki Kisame_ were the ones who entered the shop.

It seems her speculation on the timeline was wrong. Dead wrong indeed.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please let me hear your thoughts (o'ｕ≦o)

[1] In my headcanon, Obito is Madara's direct descendant. This idea is related to how Obito called Madara his "honorable forefather" once in the canon. And it just stuck. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Chapter 5

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

 _'Ok, me. Don't freak. Play it cool. You're just another paying customer eating dango. Nothing to worry about.'_ Kept replaying in her mind like a broken tape recorder.

She made sure that it was her covered side that faced the entrance as she stared unblinkingly at the other customers to her left, not daring to audaciously broadcast the visible portion of her face in the case that Itachi - this body's baby _cousin_ \- somehow sees the obvious Uchiha resemblance between them.

The cigarette dangling in between her lips was used for meditative purposes as she metaphorically inhaled all of her anxiety and exhaled them along with the cloud of thick smoke.

Woefully enough, it _wasn't_ working like it normally _should've_. Did Narutoverse produce weed or marijuana? If so, where could she get some of 'em?

...Her mind sure was finding many interesting ways to distract her from reality.

Calm. She needed to remain calm to not do something stupid. Calm. Calm calm calm calmcalmcalmcalmmmmhmmmmoooohhhmmmmuuuu...

It wasn't working, _dammit why wasn't it working?!_

Stubbing what was left of her cigarette into the ceramic ashtray, she grabbed one of the dango sticks and bit into the rounded dessert snack in a manner befitting of someone having a mental breakdown - or in other words; she tore through the balls with the grace of a catatonic zombie, monotonous and without a will.

Just as she blindly reached for another stick, the waitress strode to her table, into her sights and explained rather pleadingly about something to do about the lack of seats and if she could _please share her table and let them dine with her?_ or something along those lines.

To be rather truthful, she was so out of it that she didn't realize she had agreed until Itachi and Kisame had seated themselves on the opposite seats directly from her. The waitress thanked her profusely with tomato-red cheeks as she stared boldly at Itachi's pretty face (or what could be seen under that ugly hat which she didn't know the technical name of).

Never has she wanted to stab herself with a fucking dango stick this badly before. Not only did she build her own coffin, she dug her own grave whilst at it.

But she hoped (rather pathetically) that she was simply overreacting due to her nerves and paranoia. If Itachi was here, that meant that the Uchiha Massacre had happened - which meant the original Obito should be _officially_ dead, basically a phantom, and supposedly in his twenties and not his teens.

Oh, and there was this _insane hypothesis_ running circles inside her brain about a Tobi, which, she might add, was _not_ _her_ and was currently (and literally) prancing around pulling the strings of many organizations and villages and planning the destruction of the world and _ohgodRin'sdeadMinato'sdeadKushina'sdeadNaruto'sanoprhanZetsu'slurkingsomewhere-_

 _Hahahahahaha_...

There was another Uchiha Obito (did she even _want_ to call herself Obito?) running amok. That sure skewered her logic to hell and back.

Inner-her was in the corner of her mind, hugging her knees as she rocked herself back and forth to prevent the hysterical breakdown from cracking through her subconscious and preconscious and whatever else layer of consciousness there was whilst outer-her chewed the dango desserts mechanically and impassively, head still turned away from the two S-Rank nukenin.

She, once again, stood her point; she was loathing every revelation she gained with each passing day. Along with this _fucking_ body. Jashin dammit why _this_ body of _all_ bodies? She seriously wouldn't have minded being a Sakura right now. Or, you know, a random no-name **_kunoichi,_** thank you very mochi.

Seeing that the dango tasted like nothing but ash on her tongue, she decided to eat something that tasted better - which were tobacco and nicotine sticks, obviously.

As she bit the butt of a newly retrieved cigarette and pulled out her lighter, she didn't quite manage to light it up due to someone clearing their throat. She had no other choice but to turn her head slightly so that she could see what the fuck the person wanted.

Better to not ignore the two dangerous shinobi who could kill her within a split second.

Seeing that they have her attention, Itachi was the one who spoke (shocker) with a quiet yet authoritative voice, "Thank you for sharing a table with us. If it isn't much of a bother, would it be possible of you to refrain from smoking while we are here?"

 _Ah, right._

Didn't Itachi have some kind of lung disease?

Seeing that she was aiming to be a Medic-nin (or a civilian if she couldn't), she was awfully curious. With her knowledge of modern medicine, would it be possible to cure him if she knew which illness ails him? Was the disease anything like TB; spread via droplets but was manageable and curable with the right medication or not contagious but incurable?

"It is of no issue." She answered evenly, thankful that her voice didn't strain or break. She then slid the cigarette stick back into its box and pocketed it.

Without it to distract her from her unhealthy oral fixation, she went back to eating her dango (which still tasted like ash if anyone was wondering). Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible, she chewed at a moderate and leisurely pace, not wanting to clue the two shinobi that something was amiss.

Ninjas were a paranoid bunch. Even the smallest of breadcrumbs would alert them that there was a bakery somewhere nearby. Not exactly the analogy she was going for, but she was currently too frazzled to think of anything smarter than that.

The former Kiri-nin was giving her a shark-like toothy grin, triangular fangs and all. Even though she was anxious to remove herself from their presence, she couldn't help but be intrigued by Kisame. It perplexed her how a human could look so much like a shark-human hybrid; with such otherworldly blue-grey skin and beady eyes.

In the anime, she could openly admit that he was a cool-looking guy. But in real life? it was pretty mind-boggling. She couldn't quite wrap it around her head and believe what she was seeing. Were his parents a breed of merfolk? Fishmen?

Genetics was so weird in the Narutoverse...

Itachi didn't speak after that, simply staring at her with a fixed gaze. She looked away as casually as she could manage and proceeded to continue people-watching. She would pretend that she wasn't sweating bullets as she ate her dessert.

And if her speed had increased slightly, well, she was sure nobody could guess the true reason for that, simply thinking her wanting to leave faster to smoke. The Akatsuki was known as simply a mercenary group for hire before the start of the series, their members and goal unknown. Nothing she did should have tipped them off.

But they were shinobi for a reason.

She could feel Itachi's abyss-like eyes drilling a hole into the side of her skull. The way those dark eyes analyzed every twitch of her muscles, every breath she took, and every unspoken body language... was eerie. She felt like an experimental cell under a microscope. To be studied then discarded when found worthless, or to be kept for further analysis when deemed interesting.

"Thank you for waiting! Here are your orders, sirs! That'll be a total of 500 ryō, please."

The waitress (bless her soul) grabbed the attention of the two nukenin. She placed their orders in front of them whilst smiling bashfully, her eyes not straying from the infamous Uchiha for reasons that should probably be left unsaid.

After Itachi handed the waitress the money, she batted her eyes as she left, her gait more suggestive as her hips swayed, attracting the gazes of the civilian males all around her. Just by the customers' shameless reactions, she could accurately guess why this particular dango restaurant was packed. The waitress being the golden goose of this place was a no-brainer.

Kisame snorted at the blatant display of seduction but didn't say anything. He was quick to attack his plate of dango, but not before removing that ridiculous hat from his head and leaning Samehada against the wall next to him, within easy reach.

The majority of the customers and staff paid no heed to the slashed forehead protector, probably used to having nukenins passing by. Civilians usually cared not about those kinds of stuff, unlike their shinobi counterparts.

Itachi, however, didn't follow his partner's example of removing his hat. He only unbuttoned his high collar for easier access before tentatively taking a bite of his dango. She was hyperaware of their movements, her stomach clenching uncomfortably when she felt those piercing pair of eyes on her once again.

Seriously, she inwardly lamented, what did she do to have this prodigy's focus on her? She doubted that agreeing to share a table was something worth taking note of. Perhaps it was her appearance? No, that would be paranoia talking - she obviously has not revealed the visible portion of her face.

Then... was it, perhaps, her chakra signature? It was just her luck if that was the reason for their sudden arrival into this dango restaurant (although she did take Itachi's love for dango into the equation, she doubted he was desperate enough to share a table with a complete stranger. Again, ninjas were a paranoid bunch. They would never voluntarily dine with a stranger unless there was some kind of profit, to complete a mission, or a hidden motive).

She hasn't yet figured out how to hide her chakra signature. And she had not bothered with attempting it previously. Fuck her carelessness. She should've been more vigilant! This mistake was too painful - but it was a lesson learned nonetheless.

And if her assumptions proved true, that there was another Obito running around masquerading as Madara, she was truly out of luck. She knew that Itachi had come into contact with ' _Madara'_ many times, so she was praying that her Tobi-flavored chakra would be marked off as her being a bastard child of an Uchiha or something.

For now, she pretended to be ignorant of everything and finished her last dango swiftly (thank Jashin. She couldn't stomach another even if she tried). The second she discarded the stick, she pulled out her cigarette box whilst standing up, making it seem as if she were eager to smoke rather than flee from them.

The Akatsuki duo didn't say or do anything since she was technically just another stranger, and besides, Kisama was busy with stuffing himself silly whilst Itachi... Well, she didn't dare face him so his thoughts and actions were unknown. His eyes, however, could still be felt drilling into her very being as she made her way out of the small dango restaurant.

It was only when she turned the corner did the oppressing feelings from those bottomless eyes disappear. She exhaled in sweet relief, lit up a cigarette, and quickly blended into the crowd, wanting to fade into the background as much as possible.

She definitely needed to go to a temple or something to cleanse her bad luck.

But before that...

"Konnichiwa! Excuse me, obaa-san, do you know the directions to Konoha?" She asked a random old lady that was walking down the streets, a sheepish grin on her face.

No matter the unexpected counter with the two Akatsuki members, her plans have yet to change. She would still go to Konoha and seek sanctuary. Not as Uchiha Obito, however, but as an unknown Uchiha civilian (after she manages to get her chakra hidden and at a civilian's level, of course). She planned to throw away her forehead protector afterward as well.

The old lady blinked her tiny eyes rapidly before smiling back in kind, "Konnichiwa, shounen. I do. The shortest path is to head south-east. Gradually, you will reach Konohagakure no Sato in a month. It is a straight route without many obstacles. Just be careful of bandits - many of them have made a home near the roads. They won't hesitate to rob or kidnap... especially a handsome young man such as yourself."

"Bandits, huh... I'll be sure to remain extra vigilant of my surroundings. Thank you for your help and concerns, obaa-san!" She bowed her head to hide the grimace on her face at being called a man. When she straightened and was about to leave, she paused before throwing yet another question in passing, "Is there a temple conveniently near here?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Just continue heading that way and you'll reach our village's temple within half an hour. You won't miss the obvious flight of stairs. Are you visiting to pray for a happy marriage?"

"A-ah, nothing that complicated. I'll see you around, obaa-san!"

As if her backside was on fire, she swiftly jumped onto a nearby rooftop, her legs already _propelling_ her into the pointed direction as soon as her feet landed on the tiles.

She highly doubted that she would ever get married in the future (who would want _this version_ of her?) - unless she was miraculously turned back into a female and this face free from these horrid scars.

Previously, she had hoped to focus on her career to accumulate a mountain of wealth, meet a nice guy, continue cosplaying with Riku, get married to that nice guy she met, then live a happy, retired life with many cats and dogs.

It sucks that she would never be able to achieve that ideal dream. But that was life, always an unfair and cruel mistress. Only anime, food, and cigarettes could heal her broken heart.

With a sigh, she flicked away the bud of her cigarette, increased her speed and parkour through the roofs with every intention of working her muscles to their limits.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thank you so much for all your positive comments! It truly warms my heart whenever I receive them *.(๓´͈ ˘ `͈๓).*

 **And to a reply to a reviewer;** yes, I cringed as well when I wrote that the OC shipped SasuSaku (I'm sorry to all SasuSaku shippers, but, just, _no_ ). It definitely was karma for Truck-kun to send her off into Narutoverse to repent on her sins.

Anyway, I hope this chapter clears up some questions. Basically, she's an extra in this world. She miscalculated and assumed that Kakashi was her age, Rin and Minato were still alive, and that there wasn't another Obito since she took over his body. Thought that she could prevent all the disasters from happening and live a peaceful life. Obviously, she was dead wrong in all accounts (PLOT TWIST!). I'm not telling you which timeline she's at, though. You'll know in the next chapter, so stay tuned! (￣▽￣)ゞ

 **P.S.** If you enjoy my stories and would like to further support my writings, please consider buying me coffee at **ko-fi**. /V7V5HKR7 under the page UnknownYan! It'll be _heavily_ appreciated!╭( ･ㅂ･)و


	6. Chapter 6

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

She groaned petulantly as she shook her tired limbs, feeling worn out and sore from all the running she did (with breaks in between, of course).

Despite the little old lady telling her to 'continue heading that way', she had somehow gotten herself lost. _Completely_ lost by the looks of it. All of the trees appeared far too similar for her to be able to maneuver around in one general direction. Hence, she could, with great shame, admit that she was pretty pathetic without a GPS on hand.

Once again, she couldn't help but lament on her horrid luck. Would she really be able to survive in this _primitive_ world without Wifi-sama and Google-sensei to assist her in her activities of daily living? She doubted that _so very much_. Why couldn't she had just perished in the traffic accident? She was sure that the afterlife would be less complicated than this.

After throwing out a few more muffled curses about how _living_ was such a _pain_ , she stared with desolated eyes at the twinkling stars above, a newly lit cigarette dangling in between her dry and cracked lips.

Stubborn she might be, but she knew the meaning of 'lost cause' when it was - figuratively speaking - shoved right down her oesophagus. The temple, a supposedly _half an hour_ journey from the rural village, was definitely _nowhere_ near her now.

Conclusion: she should just sleep the night away and continue the search for Konoha in the morning.

With closed eyes, she took a deep drag from her cigarette, relishing the burns they gave to her lungs. Now that the urge to waste away was nulled by her relaxant agent, she stretched her back and readied herself to scale the nearest tree - they were comfier and safer to sleep on than the ground.

As soon as she opened her eyes, however, she had to bite back a yelp, her cigarette having fallen to the ground at the jumpscare she received.

She could feel her heart in her throat as it drums furiously with every breath she took, her feet having retreated several steps back from the person standing aloofly in front of her.

The nukenin simply stared, his dark eyes assessing. Not long after, he took a bold step forward, and then another. She was quick to counteract his actions by taking a step back, not wanting him to close the distance between them _at all cost._

It was a futile struggle as her spine soon hit a dead end in the form of a tree.

Just as she was about to say fuck the consequences and make a run for it, a pair of toned, muscled arms pinned her in place. His knee was soon prodding her legs apart to impend on her mobility, causing her to feel more than a little exposed, her female mindset screaming bloody murder.

She swallowed her saliva with great difficulty as the Uchiha prodigy leaned forward until he was on eye-level with her, his long lashes brushing lightly against hers.

... _Wait a second_?!

Wasn't this the famous _kabe-don_?!

 _omigewdnesswtfbbq_ -

Her pupils were spinning round and round in confusion as she stood there, still as a statue, as a reddish hue decorated her cheeks. Despite being a hardened paramedic who has seen her fair share of (super dead and bloodied) naked guys on her job, she was still an otaku at heart - a nerd who has never been _this_ close to a man before, within _breathing_ distance (her best friend notwithstanding).

When she felt fingers brushing lightly against her forehead slowly pushing back her curtain of hair that hid her unsightly right side of her face, however, her skin immediately turned a shade paler as she trembled and ducked her head, avoiding his touch as she did not want her scarred face to be seen by such a beautiful person.

For a moment there was blissful silence, before...

"Look at me." At the assertive and authoritative command, her automated reaction as a paramedic was to follow through with the order.

When her sight connected with Itachi's Mangekyou-activated pair of eyes, however, she couldn't control this body's instinctual reaction at self-preservation. Her own pair of Sharingan eyes flared to life, the three tomoe symbols swirling round and round until Obito's version of the Mangekyou was counteracting Itachi's - the fear of being sucked into the world of Tsukuyomi was overwhelming her every sense.

The younger(?) Uchiha appeared unfazed, but if one looked close enough, they could tell that he was alarmed, confused, and astonished all at the same time.

Panicking as she knew that she has lost all chances of denying her relations to the Uchiha clan, she ignored all reasons that pointed to her next actions being an awful idea, turned 'intangible' and passed through the tree behind of her, not wanting to risk bringing Itachi along as she activated Kamui.

She faceplanted onto a grey prism upon entering Kamui's dimension, a pitiful groan escaping her lips. Her entire body felt like jell-o, all weak and wobbly.

"Stupid... Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Now that she was out of immediate danger, she couldn't help but reprimand herself for allowing panic to cloud her judgment. Rule number one of being a medic; to always keep your calm no matter the circumstances! And she failed that _miserably_.

Even if this body's heritage was revealed, all Uchiha look somewhat alike. She shouldn't have shown him her eyes' powers! No Mangekyou has the same special ability. After this foolish performance of hers, Itachi, without a doubt, would link her to Tobi now ( _if_ there was a Tobi in this messed up Narutoverse) - perhaps even thinking her a clone of his or something!

This mistake should never be made ever again lest she desires the experience of being interrogated physically and mentally by a former-ANBU-turned-nukenin.

Not wasting another second, her (trembling) fingers expertly pulled out a cigarette and lit it, her lips sucking an extra lungful of smoke, and held her breath till she was on the verge of fainting.

This time, she managed to come out alive due to Itachi being too surprised to react. The next time, however, she knew that the chances of leaving the area alive were slim to none. Itachi, this body's younger cousin, would undoubtedly do anything to protect Sasuke.

And at the appearance of a new player in the chessboard with an ability that 'Uchiha Madara' (Tobi) has, Itachi would, of course, be cautious - and if she was being morbid, get rid of her.

 _What a truly disastrous day_ , she lamented as her body shuddered in fear, the adrenaline still coursing throughout her system. Whilst biting her lower lip to prevent a hysterical sob from escaping, she made herself as comfortable as she could manage on the floor and closed her eyes, hoping for some sort of miracle to happen.

* * *

Itachi pushed a palm lightly against the tree in front of him, confirming once more that it was non-viable for anything (least of all a human) to pass through solid matter without performing a jutsu or two.

The unknown Uchiha - for the teen was definitely an Uchiha and not someone who had stolen their clan's eyes - had done two impossibilities tonight.

Itachi knew all of his clansmen by sight alone due to his position as former-heir. However, he has never once seen that teen before - one in his age group at that. There shouldn't be any non-Konoha Uchiha in existence as nobody in their clan but Itachi has 'defected _'_ (and it was _unheard_ for _any_ Uchiha or Hyuuga, who held their eyes in a high pedestal, to have a mission-baby).

Furthermore... no two Mangekyou were the same. So how exactly could that fifteen-ish-year-old have the same abilities as Uchiha Madara?

Itachi doubted that it was a coincidence for two Uchiha to have the ability to turn intangibility and teleport instantaneously via Mangekyou Sharingan (he had once calculated all of Uchiha Madara's power and theorized that their eyes were probably linked to space and time).

But he couldn't be sure of that theory as not many in the clan have actually unlocked their eyes' _final_ form _._ The boy might even be Uchiha Madara's direct descendant, a son or grandson, hence their eyes similarities.

His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly at the puzzle, but on the inside, he felt elated. If this unknown variable has the potential to become as strong as their clan's powerhouse, Uchiha Madara, then Itachi would have someone to manipulate and mold. And judging by how young and scarred the teen's appearance was; Itachi knew that the probability of him having a tragic background was high.

Those that suffer from childhood misgivings would always cling onto someone similar, or someone who threw them even a little bit of affection. Itachi has never once been a child before, but he knew kindness and love thanks to Shisui. And despite being a pacifist, he would do anything to protect Konoha - even if that means using an abused child, then so be it.

After all; the path to hell was paved with good intentions. He has already stained his hands with the blood of his parents - another clansman would make no difference.

But first, he needed to find the teen.

Itachi's eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on an image of the unknown Uchiha, the memory was clear thanks to the Sharingan's innate ability to recall everything the user sees.

The boy was about fifteen-years-old, reaching Itachi's chin and quite slender in muscle tone - almost delicate, even. His features were like any other of their clansmen; androgynous during their growth period. Itachi knew that many of the men would grow masculine sooner or later whilst some remained in-between (Itachi himself leaned closer to the latter).

He wore a blue kimono with overlong sleeves, boots (which was an odd choice of footwear for shinobi), and a burnt orange sash and scarf. There was a harsh smell of tobacco and ashes covering his natural scent, and the redolence of his nin-pouches was tenfold - causing Itachi to assume that there was literally nothing _but_ cigarettes hidden inside the boy's pockets.

What stood out most to Itachi, however, was the other teen's attitude towards his facial scar (and if Itachi wasn't wrong, he saw a few more damaged tissue peeking out from the scarf as well). Apart from those that were in the espionage department and considered themselves honeypots, shinobi usually cared not about physical blemishes received from a bloody battle.

It was shocking to the prodigy that the other Uchiha showed such obvious self- _shame_ at his own face. Itachi had only wanted to see his full features to determine the lucky clansman who had escaped the massacre (and due to his decreasing eyesight, he had no choice but to activate his Mangekyou as he had run out of his usual eyedrops), not make the other teen uncomfortable.

Added to the solicitude at seeing another Uchiha having awoken their Mangekyou at such a young age, he was slow to react to the sudden teleportation act. Although what truly halted all of Itachi's response was those (sad, sad) eyes that screamed ' _don't look at me_ ' with such fierceness that Itachi could only silently comply and take a step back.

It was with regret that he extended his senses in search for the unique, Uchiha-flavored chakra (the nostalgic warmth and wistfulness he felt at the dango shop were unforgettable to Itachi). Or to be more precise; he scouted for a younger and more vibrant version of Uchiha Madara's chakra signature.

After a full ten minutes of no results, Itachi could only give up for now. It would be better for him to return to the INN before Kisame started questioning his whereabouts. With an inaudible sigh, he gave the clearing one last look before taking off into the distance.

* * *

She nibbled nervously on the butt of her cigarette as she paced back and forth, fearful of leaving the dimension yet fully aware that, eventually, she has to. Itachi should be long gone by now - but paranoia was her invisible nemesis, constantly looming over her shoulder and refusing to leave.

Knowing that _this_ could not continue (she was beginning to feel dehydrated), she forced herself to think useful facts that could lead her to a solution rather than the hazardous _what ifs_.

Kamui involves space-time shenanigans.

Canon-Obito, often than not, uses his right eye to _teleport_ to _any location_ he desires. Barrier seals were pretty much useless to his overpowered eyes. Hence, theoretically, she should also be able to do the same feat - no matter how inexperienced she was with Kamui.

However, unlike canon-Obito, she did not possess Senju Hashirama's cells nor the substances that made White Zetsu... _White Zetsu_. Thus, she did not have his rapid healing to prevent her MS from deteriorating and blinding her. Although she has yet to feel the effects, she dared not risk overusing it.

Call her a coward or whatever, but to be blind in the Naruto universe in **_Uchiha Obito_** 's body? Bad idea. Very, _very_ bad idea.

But for now, she had no choice but to try teleporting to Konoha (away from Itachi) again. The first time she had tried this, she had failed. However, that should not dissuade her. It was as they say; if you fail, try try again! ... though didn't they also mention that trying the same thing repetitiously without a clear change in result was a sign of insanity?

Ah, humans, always contradicting themselves.

Before she could talk herself out of doing something productive, she turned on her Mangekyō and searched for a distortion in the air that _feels_ similar to 'home'. She would take advantage of this body's natural instinct to _guide_ her, unlike how she had tried to _force_ it last time.

Her mind, which was always full of longing for the polluted air of Earth and the sky-high metallic buildings, was replaced by the Hokage Monument and Obito's last living teammate, Kakashi.

It seems as if an eternity has gone by with her eyes seeking desperately for the right space-time distortion. They were beginning to itch, but she ignored the sensation, somehow aware that she was close to finding it.

And she did.

It was like a beacon of light, the nostalgia and warmth (that wasn't hers, but still hers?) a pretty good indication that the distortion was the correct 'gate'. Without delay, she mentally reached for that destination - idly wiping away the slick liquid from her eyes - and spat herself out from the Kamui dimension.

What entered her vision was not what she had been expecting _. At all._

Just inches away from her face was a shuriken patterned quilt, but that wasn't what shocked her into gapping unattractively. No. It was due to the man underneath the covers; she was staring right at an innocently sleeping Hatake Kakashi (how was he still sleeping after her hippopotamus-like entrance?!). And this time, it was her ' _kabe-don_ '-ing someone.

She dared not move a muscle or even _breath,_ not wanting to test her luck any further.

... _Apparently_ , it wasn't up for debate. How very shocking (note her sarcasm).

The Fates _(_ cough _theauthor_ cough) enjoyed playing with her too much to care about her mental anguish and suffering.

She broke out in cold sweat when her bloodstained tears began rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably and dripped onto the quilt, just missing Kakashi's pale skin by a small margin. If the jounin had not pulled the quilt all the way up to his nose... She didn't even want to imagine the outcome.

With excruciating slowness, she began the process of extracting herself from the bed, her _painfully itchy_ eyes locked onto the sleeping figure in fear of missing any signs of wakefulness. Her bloodstained tears continued to fall, and with every landing they did on the quilt, she winced and cringed.

She raised a hand to wipe the tears, but when the bed creaked loudly at the sudden weight loss, however, she stiffened, her face pale as she dared not do anything else.

Kakashi moaned slightly as he shifted in his sleep, his lashes fluttering slightly. She prayed to Jashin that he would not react any further than that.

And, _of course_ , her prayers weren't granted _as per usual._

"Obito?" A voice, thick with sleep, echoed throughout the bare bedroom.

If this was any other scenario, she would be squealing at how sexy Kakashi sounded, but currently, her soul has already half-way escaped from her mouth due to fright.

 _Why? Why me...?!,_ Inner-her screamed her grievances to the sky.

* * *

 **A/N: " _DYNAMIC ENTRYYYYYY!_ MY COOL, HIP, AND TRENDY ETERNAL RIVAL HAS APPEARED~~!" ****୧(*** **ω*** **)** **୨**

I apologize for such a late update! My plot-bunnies refused to diligently breed for me! Grrrr... Such uncooperative little shites they are (╬ಠ益ಠ)! They only became compliant after I began listening to a playlist composed of all Alan Walker hits (∥￣■￣∥)...

Thank you all for being patient with me m(_ _)m

Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter (⌬̀⌄⌬́) ~

 **P. S.** If you enjoy my stories and would like to further support my writing hobbies, please consider leaving me coffee at **ko-fi** /V7V5HKR7 under the page UnknownRegion ~ It'll be _heavily_ appreciated! (๑•̀ㅁ•́ฅ


	7. Chapter 7

**Full Summary:** A cosplayer was _lovingly_ sent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, now he, could only despair at his choice of cosplay outfit now that he was the character itself. OC-turn-Obito!

 **Warning(s):** Future slash, Isekai shenanigans, Disturbing themes, Killings/Murder, Child soldiers, Dimensional travel, Puns, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria in general _(?)_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.

* * *

Her scalp felt incredibly numb as she gazed into Kakashi's heterochromia eyes, his left having actually _fucking transformed_ to match her own pair of Mangekyou orbs. If she was more experienced, she would've weaved some kind of elaborated Genjutsu and cut off all future encounters with fate. But due to how hesitant she had been with this body's eyes, she was, sadly, a shame to all Uchiha everywhere.

But that was beside the point.

She knew for a fact that Kakashi's Sharingan had evolved into the Mangekyou when he and Obito witnessed Rin's death. However, there was no mention that Kakashi could intentionally activate it before canon had even started! Was she messing with the timeline so badly that it was fucking everything up or was she in an alternate universe of the canon or was she maybe inside a fucking fanfiction right now?!

Before she could enter a state of questioning her own existence, the ( _very dangerous_ ) shinobi shifted, his eyes showing less sleep as seconds continued to pass by. Which was not good. _At all._

Not knowing what else to do and how the fuck she should get out of this mess, she decided to use her vast knowledge in all anime matters and just... hopes this bullshite fucking works!

"... You're dreaming right now, Kakashi," she whispered soothingly ( _desperately_ ) despite feeling anything but calm. Her heart was beating dangerously close to 200 beats per minute right now.

"But you feel real," Kakashi's sleep-lidden eyes appeared dull and defeated even as he pushed the quilt aside in order to reached out and wrap his sinewy arms around her waist.

 _I am real! But don't notice, please!_ She inwardly shouted.

Outwardly, however, she allowed herself to be pulled to his chest and obediently laid her bloodstained cheek on his strong shoulder. Without her permission, color flooded her cheeks as she felt _just_ _how_ muscular Kakashi was. The clothes he wore did nothing to cover how fit he was - much to her embarrassment.

When the jounin's slender fingers began playing with her hair, she didn't know what else to do but remained unmoving. At least the peace and calm was allowing the man to succumb back to Morpheus' embrace, right? _Right_? Right.

As she waited patiently for him to fall asleep, she studied his face with rapt attention. He looked young - though not as young as this current body of her's. Probably between eighteen to twenty-one. Which, again, fucked her mind up so badly it physically _hurts_ (oh, wait, that was just her fucking eyes telling her that it was hitting its fucking limit soon).

Current facts:

1) Itachi was already in the Akatsuki.

2) Kakashi wasn't twenty-five years old yet.

3) This body was fifteen.

4) Her eyes were itching like mad.

Theories:

1) Tobi had already helped with the Uchiha massacre and extended an invitation to Itachi to join the Akatsuki, hence proving that there should be another Obito running looses somewhere.

2) Assuming Kakashi's young age, canon should be in five or so years.

3) Perhaps she just wasn't meant to be in this Narutoverse.

4) She should consider turning off her Mangekyou.

Conclusion:

All of it shows that everything was per canon and _she_ was the anomaly. Meaning that this body of hers should be from an alternate universe where Obito was fucking burned or flogged or something other than crushed by a bolder and due to her unexpected soul trying to hitch a ride, they somehow dimension-traveled to canon, causing there to be _two_ Obitos and-

... And she was confusing herself and allowing something called an _existential crisis_ to take over her head.

Time to tune back to Kakashi.

Despite the dark circles under his eyes, Kakashi's facial features were irresistibly extraordinary. The more she looks, the more hideous she feels. Like an ugly duckling next to a beautiful swan. She shamefully moved her eyes away and focused more on his head. His silver hair was a mess, and she had this _insane_ urge to smoothen it out - but, of course, she knew not to pet any _wild wolves_ since that would be suicidal.

After a moment of tranquility (escaping reality), her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy thanks to the steady rhythm of Kakashi's breathing and the rise and fall of his chest. Knowing that that would be counterproductive, she decided that she should risk removing herself from him before she truly falls asleep. Kamui could be used the second they weren't touching, she reassured herself anxiously.

With a nervous exhale, she carefully extracted herself from his arms - thankful that they were loose - and slipped out of the bed without any other _exciting_ scenario happening (much to her relief).

Before she could make her exit, however, her wrist was grabbed.

"Are you leaving? _Again_?"

She turned to the shinobi, his eyes pleading for her - for _Obito_ \- to stay.

She swallowed with much difficulty, her chest throbbing at the uncomfortable feeling she was experiencing. She loathes to disappoint, but she knew that once Kakashi was more awake, he would undoubtedly freak the fuck out. And her life would definitely be put at risk. Maybe she would even get a free ticket to T&I if she lived long enough.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi. You should return to sleep. You look far too exhausted," This body, without her say, reached out and lovingly stroked the man's cheek, a rueful smile playing on her lips.

It spooked her bad enough that she froze completely, pulling her hand back as if the man's skin burnt her.

"Please don't go, Obito. Rin and Minato-sensei are already- I'm all that Team Minato has left... I'm _lonely_ , Obito. I- _I don't want to be alone anymore,_ " Kakashi choked out the last few words, tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh, 'Kashi..." She wiped the tears from his eyes and she crouched so that they were on eye level.

It was _downright_ heartbreaking to see such a powerful shinobi _shatter_ due to his team's premature death.

"You won't," She breathed out, her voice full of reassurance, "Soon, you won't be alone anymore. There'll be many hardships ahead of you, but persevere and endure them all, 'Kashi. _They'll_ make sure you won't be alone in the future."

"I don't know if I can," The jounin clenched her wrist tighter as if a child telling their parents to not go to work.

"You can. I promise."

"... Really?"

Oh my fucking Jashin... Kakashi sounded so _young_.

It made her recall that this was the person who had found his father's body when he was a boy. Who had to leave his teammate behind underneath giant boulders when he had just turned into a teenager. Who fucking _skewered_ his friend in the chest not long after. And to put the icing on the cake, he then lost the last of his team to a monstrous ball of chakra.

And all of that happened before he even reached the tender age of _fifteen_. No wonder Kakashi was a mess deep inside. No wonder he was so open to the Obito in his 'dream'. Did the fucking Sandaime even offer support? Or force him into counseling sessions? Or do _something_ about his mental health, at least?!

 _Fuck_. Narutoverse was brutal. How was this a kid's comic again?

"Really," she sounded strain to even her own ears, her voice thick with emotion, "Now go back to sleep. Please, Kakashi. You're exhausted."

She didn't know if it was the begging or if he truly felt reassured at her words, but the silver-haired jounin obediently closed his eyes. His breathing soon evened out after a few minutes, indicating his slumbering state.

She sighed sadly, gently shook her wrist free, and tenderly tucked the man in - making sure to pull the quilt all the way up to his nose, "I'm sorry, 'Kashi. You don't deserve all that. But I promise you, it'll all be better soon."

She leaped out the window with her Sharingan capturing the deceitfully beautiful image of the village bathed in the orange glow of dawn. As she allowed gravity to do its job, she closed her eyes, simply enjoying the rush of the wind. Just before she hit the ground, this body swirled into a vortex as Kamui pulled her into the safety of her dimension.

If she had stayed for a couple more seconds, she would've seen how Kakashi had jolted awake, threw his quilt off his body, and scanned the room with deliberate eyes. And then she would see how his hands trembled as they ran over his clothed chest and bare shoulders - which were freshly stained with her blood.

"O- _Obito_..." he choked, voice hitching as he scrambled desperately out the window, mask already in place and fingers moving at a breakneck speed to summon his pack.

But she didn't stay. So she didn't see.

Inside her Kamui dimension, she dropped to the ground and covered her bleeding eyes with an arm. Despite this being the first time she was seeing Kakashi in real life, it felt so nostalgic and warm. Her eyes wouldn't stop producing tears and her chest wouldn't stop constricting.

She knew that this body wasn't hers, but this just made it all _official_ damn it. She had, without a doubt, taken over Obito's body.

Her feelings for Kakashi was never this complicated before - what she should only be feeling was the deep respect for an anime character who has survived against all odds. However, right now, all she felt was this aching urge to reach out and hug Kakashi to death, _never ever letting go_.

It hurts so much...

Her lips curved into a mocking attempt of a smile as the tears, mixed with blood, continued to roll down her cheeks and stain her scarf.

* * *

" _I'm so aloneee~ Nothing feels like home... I'm so alone~ Tryin' to find my way back home to you~_ "

Idly, as she wondered if Riku was missing her as much as she was missing him, she sang out of tune whilst balancing on the railings of a bridge; the exact same one Team Kakashi would always meet at in the canon during their genin days. She felt that the song was fitting for her current mood but the lyrics were too singular and repetitious.

With a sigh, she used this body's athletic prowess to pretend to be a ballerina dancing to a melancholic beat.

" _I'm never gonna let you close to me, even though you mean the most to me. 'Cause every time I open up it_ hurts _..._ _So I'm never gonna get too close to you. Even when I mean the most to you. In case you go and leave me in the dirt~_ "

She moved this body in an arabesque position as she continues to kill mother nature with her singing. After a couple of random spins, she bent her knees slightly, jumped, and twirled elegantly in the air before landing perfectly en pointe.

" _But every time you hurt me the less that I cry...! And every time you leave me the quicker these tears dry~! And every time you walk out the less I love you... Baby we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true... I'm way too good at goodbyes~_ "

Many might be wondering what the fuck she was still doing in Konohagakure - singing and dancing like a mad person - after having shown her face to Kakashi. Well, her answer was simple: Itachi had seriously scared her off from traveling the world, hence, for her own safety, Konoha was her best option at staying alive.

... Or so she would like to believe, anyway.

Kakashi's words had been drilled deep into her mind, and she felt compelled to at least be near him... despite her evasive habit whenever she sees him out on the streets (a total of _one_ time). Furthermore, just at the sight of him, safe and sound, makes her feel contended. So who was she to deny her stalker instincts? _Ahem_ , she meant happiness. Who was she to ignore her what makes her happy?

After a few weeks has come and gone, she relaxed some of her guard and believes wholeheartedly that the Hokage would not know of her existence at all (seeing that she has no plans whatsoever to become a shinobi _officially_ ). She was just another civilian in the crowd, and because there were plenty of people in Konoha, they wouldn't even know she was an illegal immigrant unless she was specially checked upon.

She also took to 'reading' a book whenever she was out and about, as this gave her a legit excuse to look down and allow her fringe to shadow her face as much as possible.

"Asuka-san!"

With a foot still raised and her arms in a mocking stance of balance like those tightrope walkers back on Earth, she turned her head towards the person who was calling her by her alias.

Ah, yes. Her _punny_ alias. She snickered to herself at the inside joke before giving one last twirl and jumping down from the bridge's railing.

As she waited patiently for the teen to reach her, 'Asuka' sized her up. The brunette, Himari, was carrying a bunch of scrolls. It wasn't a surprise since they were colleagues who work as food couriers. Think Uber Eats.

The eighteen-year-old civilian has short brown hair and wide, innocent brown eyes, an average face, and was tall for a Japanese female (170cm); the same height as this (still growing) body. She was wearing a white tee, a pink bubble skirt, a pair of sandals, and a cap with the company's logo printed on it.

"Good morning, Himari-chan."

"Morns! Here's the list for yer deliveries. Ya good to handle that much?"

"No problem."

She gave the brunette a small smile as she automatically reaches for her share of deliveries and the list of addresses and orders.

"Great! I'll see ya later at the break room?"

"We'll see."

The teen rolled her eyes at Asuka's standard non-answer, muttering under her breath about annoying 'men' and their need to act all mysterious.

Her smile vanished upon hearing that comment, still feeling uncomfortable living inside a man's body. Despite trying her best to trick her mind into thinking it as mere crossplaying, it was difficult whenever she sees the _thing_ dangling in between her legs.

"Ya always say that. Ah, whatever. See ya when I see ya then, I guess."

Asuka hummed the song 'Silhouette' under her breath as she watches Himari run off into the streets, her silhouette fading into the morning crowd. Seeing that the scrolls wouldn't deliver themselves, she pulled out the company's headband, tied it around her bicep, and looked at the first address on her list.

She spent her whole morning making deliveries, going back to the company building to get more addresses, and delivering more takeouts. It wasn't physically demanding to someone like her who has the body of a shinobi. The pay was also actually decent enough for her to pay her rent and more.

It was quite unexpected that the people here did not ask for any identification documents when she was job and apartment-hunting, but she simply shrugged it off, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her bachelor apartment was affordable and actually, after she had agreed on rent, discovered that it was quite near to Kakashi's apartment building.

A block away and directly facing it, actually. Quite a coincidence, but she wouldn't have it any other way. The jounin wouldn't have any reason to sniff through the area, anyway.

After returning to her apartment, she stepped out the balcony and lit a cigarette, enjoying the fresh breeze of the evening air. Konoha, despite being a hidden village filled with deadly ninjas, was quite peaceful (not counting the start of the series). If she didn't have Riku waiting for her return back on Earth, she wouldn't have minded staying here till she was old and wrinkly.

" _There are probably a lot of things we don't remember. Everyone, even him, becoming a mere Silhouette. We've pretended to forget the things we held dear... So we can just laugh and say it's nothing~ Lighty, nimbly, the dance. Just like those leaves, having a singular purpose, I want to proceed without impatience~_ "

She breathed out, smiling ruefully as she watches the smoke dance in the air. Putting her elbows on the railings, she fingered the right side of her face, feeling the rough texture of scars on her skin.

Soon, her schedule would be filled, mostly with physical training, chakra control exercises, and stealth work. They were needed for her to be able to sneak through the libraries and Uchiha clan archives.

" _There are probably a lot of things we don't remember, but there are also things that will never change. And you, who taught me this, are a fading, fading Silhouette. Clutching the things we wish to hold dear, we'll become more mature, never letting them wander~ Protecting them at all times. Then someday... We'll be able to laugh about it all~_ "

For now, she supposes she could enjoy and cherish what little peace she could find in order to distract the darkness that was budding in her heart, growing whenever she thinks about her best friend back on Earth.

" _Lightly, nimbly, they dance... Those leaves fly into the distance_ ~"

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you guys don't mind this filler. There'll be a time skip coming up so look forward to the next chapter!** **(ง •̀ω•́)ง✧**

D'aw, I know I'm cruel, but you guys don't have to keep complimenting me. It's making me shy (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ. I'll be sure to add more cliffhangers in the future hehehe v(^∀^*)

Asuka = _飛 (asu)_ meaning "to fly" and _鳥 (ka)_ meaning "bird", and since the direct meaning of "Tobi" from the Japanese language is "to fly", I thought why not? Word plays are my favorite type of humor (no matter how childish) ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Chapter 8

At the familiar and _very_ vexatious sound of a monotonous beeping, _Asuka_ covers her head with a pillow and wishes dearly for the world to just implode right there and then. With every increase of the alarm's volume, her frustration grew bigger and bigger until it was almost matching Mt Everest in height.

Nowadays, after three months of living in Konoha, she comes home extremely exhausted every night after the grueling hours spent exercising this body, learning about the limitations of the Sharingan and MS, and training her chakra manipulation. So, excuse her for wanting to laze about during the mornings and sleep in.

Just as she was getting used to the annoying beeping and was returning to Morpheus's embrace, another alarm clock started singing its galling tune. Her limit reached ( _and shredded into a billion tiny atoms_ ), she grabs whatever was atop her nightstand ( _it felt like a book_ ) and throws it at the screaming alarm clocks with every intention of killing two birds with one stone.

The accuracy of a well-trained ninja( _'s body_ ) should never be underestimated. At the abrupt halt of any beeping, disregarding the two pitiful _crashes_ heard, she digs her face deeper into the sheets and holds desperately onto the last vestiges of sleep.

When the _third_ _fucking_ _alarm_ _clock_ went off, however, Asuke couldn't help but rue the day she bought them in bulk. What had she been thinking? Oh, wait. She _hadn't_.

Knowing that the fourth clock would go off in a matter of seconds, followed by the fifth, the sixth, and so on, she crawls out of the comfort of her own bed and stumbles drowsily towards the bookshelves filled with nothing _but_ alarm clocks in order to prevent her bedroom from being bombard by discordant beeping.

It was a very time-consuming activity.

After sluggishly switching all of them off, she blurrily looks at the time. It took a few minutes for her Windows 95 of a brain to process the numbers, but when her pink matter did, she screeches out an _"I'm late!"_ before rushing to the bathroom for a quick shower ( _which took_ eternity _due to her reluctance to touch this body's boy bits_ ).

Dressed in her usual outfit compiled of a navy blue kimono held together by an orange sash, arm guards underneath the flowing long sleeves that went past her fingertips, two hip pouches, a pair of dark pants with the ends tucked into combat boots, and an orange scarf, she pushes her balcony window open and leapt onto the neighbouring apartment's roof, not at all minding her damp hair. She left it to air dry.

Whilst she parkour-ed the rooftops without the usage of chakra, because she was _clearly_ a _civilian_ , she retrieves a cigarette and lit it with a deep inhale. Exhaling after a few seconds, she bit the butt of her stick and ignores the other _legit_ ninjas who were running along the rooftops. The traffic, at least, wasn't like Earth's rush hour.

It didn't take her long to reach close to her destination. Just as she finishes her smoke, she jumps from the roof and lands a few blocks from her workplace. It also didn't take long for her to get _assaulted_ by a blur of brown.

Sputtering when fur entered her mouth, she grabs the wayward animal by its scruff and snatches it from her face, not quite minding how the claws had dug into her cheeks and left behind trails of pink lines. The scratches weren't deep enough to draw blood, unlike the first few encounters, so she was immune to this devil's intimidation tactics after many ambushes.

"Tora," She says the name with dryness that could compete with Suna's anvil, "You are an absolute _menace_ to society."

The brown-furred feline with a red ribbon tied around its right ear only acted cute by miaowing and blinking innocently. Asuka wasn't fooled, not in the slightest. Gathering and adjusting the adult cat until it was held comfortably against her chest, she begins walking the last bit of distance to her workplace building.

"I suppose you're currently on a mission to escape the paws of our village's piteous genins?" She muses, idly scratching Tora's chin and making the feline purr like an overzealous motorboat. She took that as a sign of agreement.

"Those poor souls..." She chuckles whilst deftly avoiding a human collision by taking a step to the right, not once looking up from her companion, "Your catastrophic cattitude kneads work, my little tiger. I'm pawsitive that the poor souls who are unlucky enough to receive the Tora Retrieval mission are cursing your name to hell and back, and this will continue for many generations to come. Although I reckon you're purrfectly fine with that."

When Tora's whiskers twitch at her terrible puns, Asuka simply wiggles a finger to its furry face, taunting the feline and making the cat's slanted eyes narrow at her digit.

"What? Don't you find my cat puns hiss-terical? Judging by your expression... I assume you aren't feline it. To each their own, I suppose."

Noticing a dangerous glint that had entered Tora's eyes, Asuka wisely went back to scratching the devil-cat under its chin, wary of any biting attempts. They hurt.

Just as she was a block away from her destination, she suddenly stops moving and sniffs the air, her nose twitching at the appealing scent of bitter tea leaves and sweet dumplings wafting from the cafe she usually has her lunch at (named _Dango_ from the lack of creativity).

It took a few moments of contemplation before she decides that since she was already late, to begin with, her colleagues wouldn't mind waiting an extra few minutes whilst she has her breakfast. _Right_?

"What do you think, Tora? Up for some grub?"

The demon cat's only answer was an adorable yawn, the sunlight catching its fangs and making those razor-sharp teeth glint menacingly. Smiling fondly at her companion's indolence nature, her feet slowly takes her toward an unoccupied table and she sat facing the direction of the street.

The table she chose was her favorite spot to sit at. It was situated in a dark corner, able to hide her from obvious sight, yet still perfectly able for her to observe her surroundings without looking creepy.

People watching was a pretty interesting activity she was fond of. She learned much of Konoha's culture, customs, and norms simply by observing the people living their day to day life. It helped her adapt to the village without looking too much like a tourist and avoid raising unwanted flags. Unfortunately, she was the only customer at the moment, leaving her with no entertainment apart from petting Tora.

After ordering a plateful of cha-dango with an overly enthusiastic amount of red bean paste for herself, she ordered a bowl of milk and a plate of beef pie without the crust for her furry companion. The waitress, a pretty lady who Asuka has not heard the voice of despite her regular visits, didn't bat an eyelid at the cat, only nodding and coming back with their orders.

Breakfast was satisfactory.

The cafe was as peaceful as always, the food incredibly delicious, and everyone minded their own damn business. Due to the relaxing atmosphere, even Tora deemed it appropriate to linger longer than usual, sprawled languidly on her lap. The cat's eyes were half-lidded in bliss as she idly pets it whilst enjoying her after-breakfast tea. Held in her other hand was a book, covered with a handmade DIY book sox to hide her taste in literature; something that should not be seen by those who don't appreciate fanfiction-esque works.

It was only when she saw her colleague, Himari, running down the street did she finally remember that she had volunteered to do an early shift this morning.

Oopsie daisy.

Just as her lips part, Himari's names on the tip of her tongue, she was distracted by a dart of pink in her peripherals. Snapping her mouth shut, she curiously turns to look at what had grabbed her attention and almost chokes on the air itself. Not wanting to attract any unwanted attention due to her eccentric behavior, she went back to her tea whilst discreetly eyeing the only female member of Team Kakashi.

Chibi-Sakura looked frustratingly adorable with her short pink hair and huge green eyes, which were mostly covered by her bangs. It gave her a pause. Nobody should look that endearing to Asuka, who was the definition of a cat lady; anti-social and thinks that kids are aliens from a distant universe.

Yet, somehow, she found chibi-Sakura _cute,_ the child's sad puppy countenance forcing her eyes to not stray. Was this universe trying to compel her into liking one of the main characters? How conceited! She refuses to cooperate with such inane whims!

Not wanting to bow down to this eerie compulsion, Asuka hardens her heart and physically turns away from the kid. She was determined to prove Fate, Jashin, or whoever it was that controls her destiny, wrong. She would not get attached to any of the main characters in this _**fictional**_ world.

After that frightening encounter with Itachi and realizing that she was an anomaly in the timeline, the so-called 'bonds' she had planned on forming with Team Minato shifted to making friends with bypassers like Himari for the sake of overcoming this body's Uchiha instincts, nothing more. That was why Asuka, a _civilian_ , should not be involved in shinobi matters.

From what she has seen thus far, Sakura looked to be about the Academy's enrollment age, which means she was a _shinobi-in-training,_ someone Asuka should avoid in order to remain in the background. Besides, it would be foolish to get involved with any of the main characters ( _apart from Kakashi since she couldn't resist this body's temptation to Kamui into his apartment once in a while to watch him sleep, as creepy as that sounds_ ).

Even if Sakura was currently being surrounded by a gaggle of little girls, all seemingly jeering and calling her names.

Wait. _What_?

She snaps her head towards the direction of the _blatant_ _bullying_ in broad daylight which the Dango shopkeeper and his waiter was turning a blind eye on. As it was still early in the morning, the streets were deserted apart from the tiny children making their way towards the Academy grounds.

She waited for a moment, her book left forgotten on the tabletop and her hand immobile on Tora's back. Despite her optimism, nobody moved. There was _literally_ no signs of intervention as far as she could see, which was downright _disgusting_. She had originally thought that her fellow dango lovers simply preferred to keep to themselves rather than be nosy, but she was wrong. Rather than laidback, these people seem... indifferent.

It brought a change to her worldviews. Were it just them, or did this kind of attitude extend to the entirely of Konoha? Did they learn to become indifferent, or were they brought up to be this way? Were Konoha's shinobi the same? It shouldn't be, right? Those kinds of assorted questions circled throughout her mind.

Asuka has the impression that after the downfall of the Uchiha clan, the Sandaime became braindead. He not only _did not_ restart the KMPF; the keepers who uphold the civility and justice, he also deliberately turned a blind eye on Danzo's inhumane activities. Asuka feels that if the Nidaime Hokage had still been alive, he would have been mortified at his successor's poor leadership skills and immediately boot Sarutobi from the office.

This kind of fool... It made Asuka roll her eyes heavenward.

Thank Jashin she did not decide to become a shinobi as she had initially planned. If she had gone with the flow, never will she be able to obey his commands without fearing for her life, constantly looking over her shoulder and fearing if this next mission would be her last because _what if Danzo wanted to implant her eyes on his wretched arm as well_? She would die without a burial ground, no questions asked! It was too scary a thought to continue.

It was decided.

After she has learned all that she could from the Uchiha archives and everything else, she would leave Konoha. Although Itachi was a risk she wanted to desperately avoid, Asuka didn't want to be infected by the indifference and mediocrity that she was now experiencing ( _and yes, she knows she was being hypocritical, seeing that she was also a bystander doing nothing to stop the bullying_ ). Perhaps she was being too quick to judge, as one cannot represent the whole, but as a transmigrator, she knows too much to ignore the rot within Konoha. ROOT, for one.

The Elemental Continent was huge, anyhow. With the help of Kamui, she _should_ be safe if she remains vigilant.

Just as she decides to leave the cafe with Tora supported on her shoulders, the corner of her eyes caught one of the children gleefully pulling at Sakura's pink hair. The bullied child in question had tears streaming down her chubby cheeks, bottom lip quivering with the desire to cry out loud.

Asuka gnaws the insides of her cheeks for a few moments, contemplating, before sighing loudly. Although she wanted to remain in the background and not attract any attention, she was helpless to stop this body from feeling indignant on Sakura's behalf. If it were only that, she could have ignored it. However, the back of her eyes were _throbbing_ as well, and if she did not remove the stress factor soon, everyone and their grandmothers would come to learn of this body's bloodline. This was a weakness that all Uchiha have; in the face of excessive emotional stimuli, their dojutsu would unintentionally activate.

Truly, why did she have to transmigrate into the body of an Uchiha? She knows that it would one day bring her trouble, what with teen-Obito being so emotionally _compromised_. Additionally, she loathes how strongly she now _feels,_ the line between this body's emotions and her own were slowly being distorted the longer she remains in this world. It only escalates her desire to return to Earth faster.

Damn Uchiha physiology. Asuka, or rather, _Yumiko_ , has never been one to care about strangers even if they die a brutal death in front of her. Age played no part. Being a medic made her quite desensitized to gore and the suffering of others, as cold as that sounds.

At least her consciousness would shower her with praises for this virtuous behavior she was about to act upon - and hopefully, it would not be making a second appearance. She was content to remain as _Passerby A_ whilst scouring the archives for the Nidaime's scrolls containing Space-time Fūinjutsu and Ninjutsu, thank you very much.

Knowing that the future would change after her involvement with Sakura, she places a hand on Tora's fluffy head for a semblance of comfort whilst marching determinedly to the circle of bullies with a sneer on her lips. If anything disadvantageous were to happen, she could at the very least count on Kamui. The ability to disappear into her very own pocket dimension was handy that way.

"Oi, brats! The fuck are you doing?!" She barks, an Uchiha sneer _TM_ making her features look demonic as she glowers at the group of tiny bullies. They freeze in their tracks, looking at her in startlement and childish confusion.

"Huh?" One of them _brightly_ says.

She rolls her eyes at the child, a hand on her hip whilst the other balanced Tora, who was draped on her right shoulder lazily.

"I condemn all acts of bullying," Without waiting for them to respond, she pulls the pitiful looking Sakura to her side and places a hand on her shockingly soft, pink hair, "You are all Academy brats, aren't you? You shouldn't attack your future comrades outside of spars."

"Forehead girl isn't a comrade!"

"Yeah!"

"She's so ugly!"

"We're protecting Konoha by making her go away!"

"Yeah!"

All the brats start to chime in with various kinds of stupidity, puffing out their chests in a proudful manner as if they were doing something righteous, as if they had the right to judge someone just because the other person's appearance was slightly different than theirs.

She wants to snap back and lecture them about racism and discrimination, but since everyone in this world was _literally_ Japanese, she could only come up with something that would make sense in Narutoverse. And because she has social skills that could _maybe_ be compared to a rock's, she was really bad at improvising.

Glaring at the children, she articulates her words loudly and with an adult's 'I-know-best' attitude, "You all should be ashamed of yourselves. Hashirama-sama and Madara-sama created this village with the belief that everyone is like a large family unit who will cherish and protect their comrades. If you continue with this dumb farce, I'd advise that you drop out of the Academy as the Will of Fire doesn't burn strongly in any of you. On the presumption that you _do_ graduate, as unlikely as that sounds, you would undoubtedly be some kind of average joe that would leave their comrades behind at the drop of a hat. Remember this well, brats, _those who abandon their comrades are worst than trash_!"

After saying her piece, she quickly ushers Sakura away, already regretting her rash actions. But, at the very least, the back of her eyes has stopped throbbing.

On the other hand, whereas the pink-haired kid was silent, tiny hands clutching onto her's tight enough to cut off blood circulation, the gaggle of bullies stared dumbly at their gradually disappearing backs, completely confused by Asuka's scolding. Unfortunately for the transmigrator, she forgot to dumb down her speech so that seven-year-olds could understand her 'advice'. What a miscalculation on her part!

After arriving a block away from the gates of the Academy, Asuka stops near the entrance of an alleyway and crouches down to Sakura's level. The girl was still sniffling miserably, so Asuka uses the sleeve of her kimono to wipe away the tears, maneuvering around the bulk that was Tora, who was balancing across her shoulders and coyly rubbing against her cheek.

Whilst she gently fixes Sakura's appearance, she gruffly asks, "Oi, girlie. What's your name?" A little annoyed at the bangs that kept blocking Sakura's expression from being seen, she takes out a metallic wave hairband that she uses during her training sessions and pushes it into Sakura's hair, forcing the pink bangs away from Sakura's face.

A panicked expression appeared, but Sakura didn't make a move to prevent Asuka from putting the hairband on her head. Misty, doleful green eyes peered at her but quickly turned to the ground upon making eye contact, a red hue spreading on her cherubic cheeks.

Seeing that Asuka wasn't the type of person who enjoys being in the company of children, she has the impulse to roll her eyes heavenward and pray to Jashin for patience. She had forgotten that before Ino entered chibi-Sakura's life, she was a shy girl, easily embarrassed by her wide forehead. So silly.

"Fine, keep your silence, I don't care either way." Sakura snapped her head up, her tiny lips parting as if she wanted to say something, her eyes wide, but Asuka grumpily cut her off, unwilling to waste any more time. She was late for work, dammit! "Just a word of advice from a stranger: straighten your back, keep your chin up, and maintain a poker face, for fuck's sake. Brats like them will grow bored if you show that you aren't affected by their actions. Listen to me or not, again, _I don't care_. It's your life, not mine. If you want to remain at the bottom of the food chain, continue acting the way you are, who am I to interfere? If you don't, why not change yourself for the better? Go make some friends or something. Whatever. Ugh, I'm seriously late. You better leave for the Academy fast, girlie, don't wanna be late."

Without waiting to see if Sakura understood, Asuka jumped to the roof whilst lighting up a cigarette and parkoured back the way they came from, finally deeming it an appropriate time to leave.

 _Tsk_ , she better not get fired over this crap. Tora, as if reading her mind, purred like the devil-incarnate it was, loving the miserable air she was emitting. _Stupid cat_ , she fondly mutters whilst petting its head.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Ahem! A year to update, huh? How embarrassing (*ﾉ∀`*) Writer's block and procrastination are truly dreadful things! I'm not sure if there's still anybody reading this, but, yeah. My plot bunnies suddenly popped an egg and I didn't get off my seat for the whole day to type this out. Un. I hope it's enjoyable (´∀｀•). Thank you all for the support, and thank you for asking how I am doing. I'm still writing, so that's good, yeah? (〃∀〃)ゞ

Please leave a review on your way out (๑ゝڡ◕๑)!


	9. Chapter 9

Just as Asuka _finally_ arrived at her workplace without further distractions, having prepared to sneak into the office without fanfare, a strained voice called out to her. It was familiar, _angry_ , and it made her involuntarily straighten her back. She could already feel a headache forming at the upcoming scolding she would receive due to her tardiness.

 _Busted_.

She schools her features and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly as she turns to face her boss, Tora having already abandoned her as soon as it heard her boss's voice. The traitor.

"Asuka. You're late, _again_ ," Asuka's boss, Tanaka, had his tanned arms crossed as he stands outside the company's entrance, more like a security guard with a potbelly than a president of a food delivery company, displeasure written all over his plump face.

"Sorry, bosu! I had to prioritize saving a lassie from going down the dark path of a stalking fangirl by advising self-love. You understand the horrors of stalkers, don't you, shachou? Have mercy on me. I wouldn't have been late if not for my saintly morals!" Ah, now she was just being a hypocrite, what with her random visits to Kakashi's apartment.

Tanaka's tone was dry enough to compete with Suna's weather when he responded to her half-true excuse, "Does that entail munching on dangos and leisurely drinking tea?"

Not one to back off despite having already been caught red-handed, she answers seriously, face full of grievance, "Yes. My blood sugar level tends to be low after I wake up, so without glucose to kickstart my mornings, I won't be able to do any work or help little old ladies cross the street."

"Have you ever heard of _coffee_?" Tanaka asks through gritted teeth.

"The taste is too strong for my tongue and it makes my ADHD worst," She bullshits without a hint of shame, molding her facial features to be on the verge of tears, as if _she_ was the victim. "Shachou, you can't discriminate against other people's conditions, that's against labor laws. I was born this way."

Unfortunately, with every explanation she provided, Tanaka's forehead vein becoming larger and larger to the point of Asuka worrying that he would faint from hypertension. Just as she finishes, Tanaka explodes in a deafening roar, "TAKE ALL YOUR EXCUSES WITH YOU AND SCRAM FROM MY SIGHT!"

" _! ! !_ Bosu, don't be like this! I swear I won't be late anymore!" Alarmed, Asuka rushed to soothe, hands flailing as she pleads. If she gets dismissed, she would be wasting a lot of precious time job hunting when she should be doing productive activities! Time management was never her strong point, to begin with!

"That's what you profess **every, darn, diddy, day**. Yet here you are, still daring to show up to work after being _two_ hours late _because_ you were _happily eating breakfast_ with your pet. You've got balls of steel, that's for sure. But that's not enough for me to keep you. I don't want to see you here anymore, Asuka. Return the company's headband, you're fired."

"But-" She tries.

" _FIRED_!" Tanaka howls, nostrils flared and chubby cheeks flushed with anger, making him look like an ugly tomato on the verge of blowing up and showering the entire street with gore.

Shoulders slumped, she reluctantly exchanged the company's headband with an envelope containing this week's pay and walks away. She looks at Tanaka over her shoulder every now and then, showing puppy dog eyes with nil effect to the stone-cold statue that still had his arms crossed, up until she was out of sight. Only then did he enter the building, huffing angrily like a bull.

Glaring at the sky as if it was the one at fault, she mutters every profanity known to mankind and proceeds to hunt for a job.

If this was what she gets for helping someone out of the goodness of her own heart, never again will she do such an unrewarding thing! _Hmph_!

* * *

 _Konohagakure, Residential District 3, 7:30 PM. Alias: Itsuaki Asuka. Age: twenty-one years old, a_ _llegedly_ _. Currently u_ _nemployed._ _Hair color: black, eye color: black. Occupation: civilian. Special skill: perpetually tardy._

That was her status by the end of the day.

Grumpy and exhausted, she didn't bother to drag herself home. Instead, after buying some groceries and eating ramen for dinner, she heads into the first alleyway she could find empty and thoughtlessly exercise her teleportation privileges. After much practice, her action was smooth, akin to changing directions mid-walk.

Without pause, she sorted her groceries and hurried to the shower, intending to prepare for her routine check-up on Kakashi. She knows that with his strong sense of smell, she has to make sure to be extra careful when she uses the standard shinobi soap bar to hide away her scent. Following that, she would don an attire that was forgettable. It was composed of a pair of sweatpants, a baggy long sleeve shirt, and an orange hannya mask she bought on a whim.

... Maybe the hannya mask wasn't _that_ forgettable, but it hides her face from being seen, okay?!

The routine preparation mostly took her about two hours in total due to her body dysphoria. The waiting game came after, as she has come to learn that Kakashi would, on most nights, go to bed only after ten, eleven at most. To busy herself so that she wouldn't fall asleep, she would set about reading whatever scrolls she _borrowed_ from the Uchiha archives until midnight, her paranoia forcing her to give at least an hour frame of time for Kakashi to really settle in and fall asleep.

As soon as the alarm clock on her kitchen table started to beep, Asuka unhurriedly gathers all of the scrolls she had been reading and activates her Mangekyou Sharingan, teleporting directly into her personal dimension. She deactivates her Sharingan immediately after.

At one of the corners inside Kamui's dimension, there were numerous bookshelves lined up between a wardrobe where she kept her spare clothing and toiletries, and a rack filled with ninja tools, creating an upsidedown U shape type of layout. Half of the shelves were used to store her personal erotica books whilst the remaining were used for the scrolls and documents she _borrowed_ from the Uchiha/Konoha archives. There was, however, one small section on the shelf in the direct middle of the U-shape layout that displayed her own banged up Konoha hitai-ate and orange goggles cosplay prop.

After carefully dumping the scrolls at their proper places, she moves to stand in front of her cosplay props, an aching heat in her chest appearing as soon as she laid eyes on the items. Sometimes, Asuka has to wonder if she was an incurable M, because whenever she visits her dimension, she couldn't help but spare a glance at the cosplay props despite the anguish she feels at the sight of them.

Visibly shaking her head to rid those conflicting emotions, she strips to her underwear and slaps on the outfit she had prepared for the sole purpose of visiting Kakashi. Just as she was about to place the last of her garb, the hannya mask, on her face, she feels the sensation of eyes on her person.

The hairs on the back of her neck became erect and her spine involuntarily straightened, her head snapping towards the direction she could feel the stare originating from. All she saw, however, were grey blocks of varying sizes. Apart from Asuka, Kamui's dimension remained empty. With pursed lips, her gaze roamed around in paranoia, kunai in her dominant hand and Sharingan activated.

Before she could react, her mask and kunai clattered onto the floor as she was slammed bodily onto the ground, wrists held above her head by an unyielding grip, followed shortly by a gloved hand wrapped around her neck in a warning gesture. Instinct took over as she tried to knee whoever it was that was holding her down in the gut, but they countered by further pressing onto her, leaving her with no space to maneuver about and causing her to grunt at the added weight.

Cracking an eye open, she couldn't help but gasp.

Looming above her was a man in an orange swirly mask, a lone Sharingan eye gazing into her own. She shuddered. _Fuck_. She knew that she had forgotten something important! How could she have been so careless, to dare use this dimension as if her own, putting furniture whilst at it?! Fucking look at what, or _who_ , she had brought upon herself.

As if being on Itachi's radar wasn't enough to give her a lifetime supply of gastritis... How in Jashin's name was Asuka supposed to escape from someone who _clearly_ has the _higher_ teleportation privileges than her?! That was an impossibility! She demands workers' compensation from the author for all the future mental distraught she would undoubtedly have!

... If she ever survives past this encounter, of course.

At the sensation of strong, gloved fingers gradually tightening their hold around her neck, a wordless sound of distress left her lips. Uchiha _fucking Obito_ held her in a deadlock, probably snarling behind his mask and on the verge of asphyxiating her, _the intruder_ of his Kamui's dimension.

She was screwed.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Enjoy the cliffhanger, un. (*＾∀ﾟ)ъ

Itsuaki = 逸 (Itsu) "flee, escape, break loose", 暁 (Aki) "dawn, daybreak"

Alrighty. Since there have been many questions asked concerning Asuka's circumstances, I think it's about time I correct some misunderstandings. I apologize for the confusion!

1) Asuka currently resides inside the body of an AU version of Obito, who has both eyes intact.

2) She not only 'transmigrated', but she also 'isekai-ed'. This means that the wounds inflicted upon her original body got transferred to AU!Obito's body thanks to Truck-kun.

3) The scarring Asuka has is different from canon!Obito; think Balalaika from the anime Black Lagoon.

4) AU!Obito is actually 15 years old, but because she is mentally in her twenties, she feels that it's too embarrassing to call herself a teenager despite how young she currently looks. That's why "Itsuaki Asuka" is allegedly 21 years old ( _which coincidentally, haha, matches with Canon!Obito right now_ ) with an incredible case of babyface.

5) I aged Itachi to 15 years old because I fucked up on the timeline and had no other choice but to go along with it. It's a fanfiction, anyway. Shisui became 18 YO now thanks to that. The gang remains 7 YO, though, with the exception of Neji, Tenten, and Lee. Kakashi remains 20 YO.

If there is anything else you need me to clarify, please do not hesitate to drop a question in the comments （´∀`）ｂ.


	10. Chapter 10

"Who are you? How are you _here_? _Why_ do you have _that_ face? Answer me!" Obito demanded.

The gloved fingers that were wrapped around her throat loosened slightly in a way that would give her the barest of breathing room to answer.

Asuka pants desperately at the respite given to her, winded and heaving and close to fainting. Due to the white spots dancing across her vision and rush of blood pounding in her ears, she digs her nails deeper into her palms to force herself to focus, using the pain as an _anchor_ of sorts. Pain was the only thing that kept her remotely grounded.

She _couldn't_ lose it _now_. That would only further convince Obito that she was forfeiting her right to live.

Asuka would have to be deaf to not have heard the incensed displeasure in Obito's tone, along with a hint of disconcerting bafflement. However, she can't help but remain tongue-tied despite the ever-growing frustration he was emitting at her continuous silence.

She was honestly unsure of how to respond to his inquiries without sounding like an escaped asylum patient. She couldn't possibly say that she was from another world called Earth, where one man pretty much was the god of this world because _it ain't fucking real_ , and that she has somehow managed to snatch a body from an Obito from another parallel universe on her way over ( _yes, she knows, confusing_ ).

She already has a case of existentialism, causing her to sometimes think that she was a character in a cliché fanfiction story, but there was no need to infect others with this psychiatric illness as well. She wasn't that mean.

Having said that, however, Uchiha Obito _should_ know about the theories of parallel universes and alternate dimensions. This would be the key to her survival. If she could play the part of a victim who had unintentionally crossed into another universe, she should be able to convince Obito that she was harmless enough to spare her life. Her backstory needs to be _solid_ to trick a paranoid shinobi, something that would not reveal her true origins.

Basically, she needs to spin a convincing tale whilst conveniently omitting facts that would only endanger her life. After all, the best lies were based upon truth. This would undoubtedly make her already complicated life _more_ complicated, but the percentage of surviving this encounter would become higher, thus she would take her chances. She just knows from now onwards, she would be playing a _beautiful_ game of truth and omissions. Note the sarcasm.

Asuka soon ran out of time to plot when Obito, once again, starts to squeeze her neck, all but cutting off her supply of oxygen, his patience running dangerously thin. She struggles futilely, Sharingan unknowingly morphing into the Mangekyou as her eyes start to roll to the back of her head.

It was only after a full minute has passed did he relax his grip. She could have sworn she had seen the Shinigami beckoning her soul into its stomach to keep the Yondaime Hokage company.

Asuka sucks in as much air as she could manage whilst rushing to speak, not wanting to test her luck further by delaying. She also made sure to imitate how a teenage Obito _might_ act in the face of a mindboggling experience.

"U-Uchiha Obito," She starts, coughing slightly to clear her throat when she stuttered. It wouldn't do if he mistook her nerves for lying. "My name is Obito, but I go by Asuka now. My eyes can perform space-time jutsus. I... I don't know how to answer your third question? Something about... DNA, maybe? Never really paid much attention to the subjects concerning genetics." She then decides that this would be the appropriate time to try moving her plan along, "Are... are you the _me_ of _this_ world?"

When Obito only continues to stare at her with daggers in his eye, she wets her suddenly dry lips, before saying, or rather, _babbling_ , "I know this sounds weird and crazy, but I'm not lying! I just... Everything here is _different_ from what I know. A-and _theoretically_ , I'm the only one who can access Kamui's dimension. So, I'm taking a long shot in the dark and guessing you also have Kamui because you're this universe's Obito? Supposedly, there's like infinite universes or something along those lines. Every choice a person makes creates an alternate universe, and since there are too many humans to count, it's the same concept. Take for example... how a mirror would reflect the mirror in front of it, which would then reflect into other mirrors inside and so on. In one world, there might be an Obito with a frivolous playboy-ish personality, and in another, there might be an Obito who decided to remain a civilian..."

Asuka pretends to trail off as if she had just realized something important.

Making it seem as if she was flustered, she laughs sheepishly, more breathless than intended due to the hefty weight pinning her against the floor, her airways narrowed no thanks to Obito's damn hand.

" _Oh_ , right! You don't have to worry about me committing identity theft or anything like that. Even when I had assumed the Obito of this universe had been KIA, I wouldn't have used the name Obito, anyway! I'm doing my best to fade into the background whilst trying to find a way back. That's why I introduced myself as Asuka. I'm not good with names so that's the only one I could think of without frying what's left of my brain cells -"

" ** _Quiet_**." Obito finally deemed it necessary to interrupt, snarling. The fingers around her neck tightening slightly as if she required a second reminder that her life was _literally_ in the palm of his hand.

Asuka instantaneously shut up. If Obito had not pinned her wrists against the floor above her head, she would have even imitated a 'zipping mouth' and 'throwing the key away' motion to emphasis her obedience.

Obito leans closer as if to intimidate her. It was working. The words he spoke next could _freeze lava_. "How do I know if what you speak is true?"

Asuka forces a smile, keenly aware that the corners of her lips were twitching uncomfortably. She probably looked constipated in his eyes. "I have no reason to lie to you." Shrugging a shoulder, she tries to lighten the mood with a joke, "I'm not into self-deception."

When many minutes passed without the situation either improving or escalating, Asuka begins to feel twitchy. Had it been too early to crack that joke?

As if a criminal waiting for their verdict by the jury, she continues to stare anxiously into his unblinking Sharingan eye, trying to discern his emotions and what he thinks about her _confession_. She failed. It was impossible to read him with that mask on.

Soon enough, the _real_ Obito released his grip on her wrists and shifted until he was basically straddling her thighs. His back was straight as he stared at nothing in particular whilst seemingly lost in thought, the gloved finger on her neck idly tracing circles on her rapidly beating carotid pulse.

Despite the queer situation she had fallen into, Asuka couldn't help but blush at the suggestive position they were in. Whilst idly rubbing the reddening skin of her wrists, she shyly averts her gaze to try and distract herself from the NSFW pictures circling in the gutter she calls her head.

To have a muscled hunk straddling her like those exotic lap dancers... her nose felt itchy with the want to spew blood. Sure, Itachi had kabedon-ed her before and Kakashi had hugged her, but she knew subconsciously that she could have easily escaped them by becoming _intangible_.

Obito, on the other hand, has access to Kamui's dimension. Not only that, he was trained by both Madara and Zetsu, his abilities more enhanced than hers. The idea that he could dominate her so thoroughly, to leave her with no escape route... kinda _excites_ the deepest part of her.

Asuka immediately wants to slap herself silly for even _daring_ to have such thoughts about someone who _literally_ has the same facial features as the current her. She truly was an incurable, narcissistic _M_ , wasn't she? How embarrassing...

The incredibly awkward tension only she feels was soon replaced with a deceptively pacific gesture of sorts, with Obito removing himself from her person to stand just a foot away, no weapons were drawn or anything that remotely says 'hostile'. But looks can be deceiving.

It was as if the lull before the storm if Asuka was being honest.

Asuka raised herself slowly, making sure that all her limbs were in full view as she proceeds to stand, not wanting to trigger any combative response from this dangerous S-Rank shinobi. Obito continues to watch her every move, the orange swirly mask not helping her depict his mood in the slightest.

Due to her nerves, she wasn't able to resist shifting closer to the tobacco cupboard located within her wardrobe. she hadn't the intention of bringing her tobacco pouch when visiting Kakashi, so she had left it back at her apartment. A mistake that she would remedy shortly ( _if she gets out of this alive_ ).

Seeing that Obito has made no move to halt her in her tracks, she boldly turns away from him and opens the door whilst taking a step nearer, partially revealing the contents of her wardrobe. She wasn't worried about showing her back to him since even if she keeps her vigilance, she would still come out at the bottom if they were to ever fight it out. He could kill her whenever so why would she bother to pretend otherwise?

Having retrieved a pack of cigarettes, she takes one out whilst footing the wardrobe door close. When she turns, she fully expects to see Obito where she last saw him. Her expectations were met with thin air, however.

It took her brain a moment to stop forming incoherent thoughts to realize that Obito had simply relocated rather than hide himself. He now stood in front of her bookshelves where all the borrowed scrolls and folders were neatly stacked. Although he too was showing his back to her, by no means was it because of trust. Asuka did not doubt that if she made any wrong moves, Obito would be at her neck before she could scream 'daddy'.

... Wait, why on earth would she scream _daddy,_ of all things?! She doesn't have a daddy kink! Jashin take the fucking wheel. Obito's sudden appearance must have shaken her badly if her thoughts were jumbled up like this. She would prefer to go back to making puns, please!

An abrupt spike of killing intent pulled her back from the pit in her brain.

She flinched at the sudden feeling of helplessness, before snapping her gaze quickly to Obito. He had his arms crossed, his posture akin to an impatient teacher waiting for a response from an unruly student. The hilarious mental image made her want to let loose a deranged cackle.

The flush on her face had disappeared, replaced by a sickly pallor, her fingers fumbling to light her cigarette, wanting- no, _needing_ nicotine in her system to dispell her wayward emotions. However, her hands were shaking too much for her to work the light due to an increase of adrenaline in her system, pupil fully dilated in response to her flight-or-fight instincts. The motions that used to come so naturally to her now _didn't_.

Asuka had been a paramedic before, a civilian. Despite this body's shinobi reflexes and muscle memory, she was inwardly _still_ a civilian. The stresses she had faced back on Earth were _nothing_ compared to the hired killers roaming this world.

When she had gotten jumped by an _S-Rank terrorist that could kill her with a single gaze_ , her emotions had been flung all over the place, her self-defense mechanism trying its hardest to prevent her from having a panic attack there and then by prioritizing survival.

However, before she could even manage to rationalize and clinically work through her anxieties step by step, dissociating having protected her mind so far, Obito's sudden dose of KI created an opportunity for Asuka's unstable mental state to deteriorate. She couldn't handle the stress anymore, so her mind took the first opportunity it could find to reboot without her say so.

She couldn't breathe. She _couldn't_ breathe. She couldn't _breathe_. She _couldn'tbreatheshecouldn't-_

Asuka didn't realize she was having a full-blown panic attack until someone was forcing her to sit, manhandling her into a position where they could push her head between her knees.

She resisted the force, words jumbling out of her lips as she struggles to breathe. It was only when the smell of ash wafted into her nostrils and a cigarette stick shoved passed her lips did she allow her head to be pushed between her knees. The tobacco allowed her to focus on her breathing, inhaling and exhaling as much smoke as she could muster in her current state.

When only the filter remained, her anxiety decided that it needed to make a comeback, but thankfully, it didn't manage to escalate as another cigarette was swiftly handed over.

This continued until she was able to see past the tears in her eyes, noticing that half her pack was empty and cigarette butts now littered the ground around her.

Tiredly lifting her head, she saw an identical face in front of her, _older_ , but one she sees every time she accidentally gazes into a reflective surface. She clinically notes down the differences, the scarring for one, and other minute details to distract her from her declining mental state.

On a disturbing note, she finds it funny that Obito has _both_ eyes. Though maybe not. Since he had probably collected enough Uchiha eyeballs to last a _dozen_ generations during the massacre. She didn't notice that she had reached out, one trembling hand placed on the scarred side of Obito's face.

"I-I'm not c-crying. They're a-allergies," she hiccoughs. She hadn't meant to say that. It felt like an automatic response rather than something she would have uttered whilst in a daze.

When she blinks, the tears that lingered on her trembling lashes fell, which only made the crease between her brows deepened. There was a small, nagging voice in her head that kept repeating that she wasn't a crybaby. Of course, she wasn't. She never was one to cry willy nilly.

"Have you calmed yet?"

She nods, then shakes her head, lips pulled downwards at her indecisiveness.

Physically and mentally drained post-breakdown, she unthinkingly murmurs, eyes glazed and mind blank, "I hate it here. I want to go home. But I _can't_. _ **I can't.** _Everything feels hopeless... B-but... Maybe it's because I've yet mastered Kamui. I don't know. What... what to do you think? Am I a fool to believe that I can go back?"

Rather than responding to her pleas, Obito removed the hand that had remained on his face and pulled Asuka to her feet. "Give me your address."

She obediently gave him her current residential address without really thinking too deeply about it.

The next second, they were both standing outside her apartment's door. Obito pulls her inside as if they were phantoms, phasing through the door. The smell of home greeted her; the scent of tobacco and ash that have seeped deeply into the walls and furniture from the overexposure of her indoor smoking habit.

She was docile when Obito led her by the arm, his gloved hand resting lightly on her elbow. Soon enough, she was in bed sans cigarette, a mug of hot milk in hand and an ugly quilt covering the lower half of this body.

"Sleep. We'll continue this another day."

 _Continue what?_ She wanted to ask, but only she was left in the room.

Asuka only blinked and Obito was already gone; as if never there to begin with. The only proof she has that the past hour had not been a figment of her overactive imagination were the prints on her wrists and around her neck. They would bruise come morning. She didn't even have it in her to care.

Like a zombie, she mechanically lifts the mug to her lips, drank the contents in one full gulp, and left it on the nightstand next to her bed. Apathetic that she had given a potential enemy full access into her permanent home base, she shut her eyes and fell into a dead slumber, too exhausted to think too deeply about anything at this point.

She would leave future matters to future-Asuka to deal with.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Uwa, I'm so exhausted (≖͞_≖̥). My eyes are spinning and spinning and I think I lost the will to search for any errors after editing so much. I don't even know anymore. No beta we die like men (´_¨｀)9.

Unreliable narrative is unreliable.

Thank you for all the wonderful feedback/commendations! I'm curious... What do you guys think about Asuka's reaction to Obito?

See you next chapter ＼\٩( 'ω' )و /／!


	11. Chapter 11

When Asuka returned to the land of the living, she balefully wonders if a truck had hit her, _again_. Her back felt like one giant bruise, and there was even a throbbing pain in her head. She tentatively touches her face, cringing when she felt damp cheeks and tenderness under the eyes.

Due to being mentally exhausted from the experience last night, she went to sleep in a vulnerable state and it allowed her mind to torment her with night-terrors. They were mostly about rockslides, Truck-kun, Riku disappearing, and Rin dying.

Funny enough, this body's brain won't let her forget about Rin despite having all the contents switched. It wouldn't even allow her a decent night of rest. Insomnia's a bitch. No wonder she kept oversleeping and got fired from her job. All she could say now was, "Jashin take the fucking wheel."

And take the fucking wheel he did. Asuka somehow found the strength to get out of bed and go through her routine. Still took her a long time to take a piss and shower, but she managed to cut her usual time down by half a minute. She made sure to give herself some kudos. Some positivity was needed for such a shitty day.

Body dysphoria? Hah. It ain't kicking downed ladies, no siree. That bastard's a gentleman.

Her morning routine completed, Asuka donned her usual attire and left the apartment. It was time to seek employment. Money was necessary to live in any world. Everything else could wait until she wasn't at the risk of being booted from her apartment in a fortnight, mental breakdown and depression included.

With Tora ( _the bakeneko ambushed her outside her apartment_ ) in one hand and a popsicle in the other, Asuka walked down the streets of Konoha. She has her eyes peeled open in the lookout for any 'for hire' signs.

The morning passed by quickly. Asuka's luck wasn't great at all. Most shops and restaurants weren't hiring, and for the ones that were, they seemed to be in cohorts with her previous employer. The swine sure likes to hold grudges. Asuka wasn't even a bad employee! The only sin she committed was being tardy.

With how limited her options were, Asuka ponders on the benefits of enrolling as a nurse at the hospital. Surely they would be short staffed? Back on Earth, she had never lacked a job since healthcare providers were always needed. In addition to that, hadn't she planned on being a medic-nin whilst she was in this world? With her Nursing and Paramedic background, she should be able to slither her way into the system.

Even more of a plus, she had managed to _borrow_ her neighbor's identification document and forge her own in her spare time.

Smirking, Asuka bites through her popsicle. It was decided. She would test her shitty luck and apply to be a nurse. Maybe she could even get to be a medic-nin in the future. And hey, if her documents were found to be fake, she could always Kamui the fuck out of Konoha.

She looks at the sky whilst inwardly praying, 'Jashin-sama, don't forsake me now! I swear I'll get you a big juicy sacrifice in the future. So big that even Hidan's won't be comparable to mine!'. Reassured that her prayers were heard, she gently dropped Tora to the ground and entered through the Hospital's automated entrance.

* * *

After fifteen minutes of waiting at the reception of Konoha Base Hospital, Asuka was led to an office. In the office was a busty woman whose hair was in a tight bun and was wearing clothes that office ladies tend to wear back on Earth. Her sharp eyes were semi hidden behind a pair of cat-eye glasses that reminded Asuka heavily of her high school teacher, and the woman's facial features were above average.

All in all, she was a woman with an aura that screams _don't cross me!_

"I am Matsumoto. Shall we forgo pleasantries and begin the interview?" She smoothly introduced herself and stood for a handshake.

Asuka quickly followed through. "Please. My name is Itsuaki Asuka. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Matsumoto-san."

"Take a seat. Itsuaki-san."

And sit she did.

The interview went well.

As for why they accepted her as a potential staff member and went their way to interview her almost immediately, well, Asuka's forged qualification documents must have impressed them. She would leave it at that as she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Happy that she had acquired a job and would be starting in three days, Asuka found it gratifying enough to grant a couple of drinks as a congratulatory gift to herself. She had, at first, planned to drink her woes away if she bombed the interview today, but it seems that plans would remain despite the change of excuses.

She happily entered the first pub she found and sat obediently at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender to turn to her. The place was empty since it was still early in the afternoon.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asked politely after he noticed her presence. The lights were dim so she could only see a portion of his features. He has nicely shaped lips.

"Something that would suit celebrations, please," Asuka responded. Normally she would go for a Jack and Coke, but seeing that she wasn't from around here, she could only depend on the bartender to serve her something he deemed appropriate.

The bartender raised a brow, but didn't question her further. He took a bottle of something and began pouring her a glass. It was, weirdly enough, orange in colour.

"A celebration? Then, this is on the house," he slid the glass to her with a wink, or so she thought was a wink. The lighting in this place was appalling. "Is it your birthday?"

"Thank you," she smiled. "No, it isn't. This ain't February. I just got a gig at the Hospital so I'm keen to celebrate the end of job hunting."

He seems to pause at that, before he continues with wiping the cup he has in his hands. "Nice. A doctor?"

"Nurse," she corrected as she took a tentative sip. "My knowledge's too lacking to be a doctor." Blinking in surprise at the taste, she narrows her eyes suspiciously at the orange coloured liquid. Why did it taste like orange juice?

"Why a nurse?"

"... Why not?" Asuka turns her gaze to the bartender, lips down turned. "Are you one of them idiots who think nursing is only a woman's job?"

"Maa, don't take what I said in a bad way. I only wanted to prolong our conversation."

With the way he said it, Asuka was beginning to wonder if he was coming onto her. She lowers her head so that her hair would firmly cover the ugly side of her face. It didn't feel bad, but she was a woman despite this body. If the bartender was flirting with her because he was gay, boy was he gonna be disappointed big time.

Hn. Let's pretend to be straight ( _though technically she was straight? This body was straight. Obito loved Rin, who's a female. So she technically wasn't lying_?).

"Look, you're a nice bloke and all, and I don't discriminate based on sexual orientation. But I ain't gay." _Technically_.

Rather unexpectedly, the bartender started flailing and sputtering. "No! I wasn't- no! You're misunderstanding!" He suddenly cleared his throat and held out his hand for a greeting. "Let's start over? My name's Sukea. I'm a freelance reporter who works as a bartender part ti-... wait!"

Asuka was out of her seat and almost at the door when her elbow was grabbed. Her shoulders were tensed and her hands were trembling. She clenches them into fists and took a deep breath before looking over her shoulder.

As expected, the lighting near the door was better. It allowed her to clearly identify the bartender. A familiar face was staring back at her, grey eyes wavering. Despite Kakashi's attempt at masking his features using vertical purple marks on his eyes and cheeks, Asuka would never mistaken the Hatake even if he wore his ANBU mask. Especially when he was using this particular disguise. Any Naruto fan could see through his attempt.

The disguised Kakashi had his lips pursed and eyebrows pinched. Any other day, Asuka would've squealed at witnessing Kakashi's bare face emoting. Now, however, she felt like she was swallowing shards of glass.

"... what?" Asuka settled to ask when the silence continued. Kakashi was clearly hesitating, which made alarm bells go off in her head. So she quickly tried to find a way out. "You're hurting me," she murmured. It was a despicable method. But it worked.

Kakashi released her as if he was burnt. The second he did, she left the building and entered Kamui. What awaited her left her choking, however.

Obito, clearly in the midst of changing into his Akatsuki uniform, had his eyes narrowed as he continues to gaze at her dumbfounded form. He has the same face as her current self, his scars more grotesque, yet something about him exuded a certain sex appeal, very much _unlike_ her.

Asuka violently slaps a palm over her eyes as she wildly waves the other hand in front of her, flustered. "I'm sorry!" She squeaked, cheeks aflame. "I didn't mean to intrude! It wasn't on purpose! I swear I'm not a pervert!"

Whilst she was forcefully telling him she wasn't a pervert on the outside, inside, however, she was going _kya kya_.

Those abs were _amazing_. The sight of Obito half-naked has been _burned_ straight into her memory. Thank you, Sharingan eyes, for having such a glorious ability. 10 out of 10, no bad reviews.

"What are you doing here?"

Asuka dropped her hands, ready to respond but the words never left her lips. She was wholly distracted by the Uchiha, who was placing his shirt into _her_ wardrobe. She idly tilted her head sideways as she eyed his body slowly. He was already clothed. Too bad. Still hot though.

Wait, he asked something, didn't he?

"What? Uh, I mean, _ahem_! Was on my way home and decided to take a shortcut. You... uh, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Changing."

Asuka couldn't help it. She blushed from the tip of her hair to the soles of her feet. Her rotten pit of a brain kept pushing the image of Obito half-naked to the forefront of her mind. She somehow had a feeling that he was laughing at her flustered state, but that couldn't be, right? He was as stone-faced as yesterday.

"Have you had lunch?" Asuka blurted out. Ah, she wanted to badly to slap herself silly! She should have made small talk first before asking!

Just as she was contemplating about braining herself, Obito gave a slow shake of his head. "No."

"Oh," was all she could think of at that moment, too relieved that he didn't just kill her for being annoying.

Come on, brain, be a smart arse and think of some way to invite him to lunch. This way, she could try to get him to like her enough to not kill her. Like any other animal, humans let their guard down the most when they eat. If she could find a way to make him have a soft spot for her, he might even help her in her quest to go home!

"Do you- ...never mind."

Asuka pouted. Obito had already left.

Ah, forget it!

She really needed some booze in her system.

* * *

 **A/N:**

It's been ages hey ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/!

I hope this chapter didn't seem rushed. Asuka's pretty all over the place and currently reckless due to her poor mental state. At least she won't get tattoos or whatever... right? Maybe? Haha d(-_^).


End file.
